Arthur Goes Fourth III: Arthur Saves Christmas
by Dead Composer
Summary: While Arthur and his friends fight to save Elwood City from a mysterious enemy, D.W. gets a Christmas present that will change her life.
1. Muffy's Bad Day

This story is rated PG for violence and mature themes. 

Disclaimer: I wonder if Marc Brown ever has to write disclaimers.

----

When we last left the Arthur characters at the end of "Arthur Goes Fourth II: The Second Time Around":

- Marina was coping with the telepathic abilities that had grown steadily stronger ever since her experience in the imaginary dimension Spiritus Mundi. These powers enabled her to read minds, plant hypnotic commands, sense the objects surrounding her, and memorize at an astounding rate. With the assistance of Francine and Muffy, she used her powers to track down and identify the kidnapper of Odette Cooper, which led to the girl's rescue. After this Muffy angered Marina by revealing the secret of her telepathic abilities in a TV newscast.

- Francine and Beat discovered that they had feelings for each other. Francine, however, refused to act on them, out of fear that they might change as she grew older.

- Sue Ellen was in the Elwood City Hospital, recuperating from injuries sustained in a plane accident that took place in Africa.

- Alan traveled back in time to save Francine from an accident that would leave her in a coma. When he returned to the present, he discovered that his interference with the flow of time had resulted in the creation of a duplicate of himself. One of the Alans went on with his life, while the other traveled into the future, where he was adopted...by the first Alan and his wife, D.W.

- As a result of Muffy's role in the rescue of the kidnapped Odette, Mr. Cooper was dismissed from the Crosswire lawsuit. This allowed Muffy and Van to see each other freely, although the rest of the Coopers still harbored animosity toward the Crosswires.

And now, on with the story...

----

"You should have killed me while you still had the power to do so!" gloated Marina, her voice echoing, her eyes glowing with a strange white light.

A few meters away stood Captain Arthur of the starship Secondprize, surrounded by styrofoam boulders. Grabbing his laser pistol from its holster, he tried to get off a shot at Marina, but the girl fired streams of energy from her eyes to knock the weapon from his hand.

Marina laughed wickedly. "Muwahahahaha! Your compassion is your weakness, Captain Arthur!"

As Arthur backed away fearfully, he felt an irresistible force bind his feet to the spot...and cause his knees to bend.

"Bow down before me!" Marina exulted. "Pray to me! I am your god!"

Then she woke up in a cold sweat. Looking around with her enhanced senses, she found to her relief that she was in the familiar surroundings of her bedroom.

She moaned despondently. "I wish these powers would just go away."

"You don't really mean that," said the male voice that she had heard earlier in the evening.

Marina sat up quickly. "Who are you?" she demanded.

The voice continued to speak, calmly and soothingly. "I am known as The Professor."

"The Professor," Marina repeated to herself. "Oh, I get it. You want me to go to some freak school where I can learn to use my freak powers for the benefit of mankind."

"'Freak' is such a harsh word," said the voice. "You're different. Unique."

"I don't want to be unique!" Marina shot back.

The voice paused for a moment. "Think about it. If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Then the image of a small, apparently abandoned house appeared in Marina's mind. Without needing to ask, she knew exactly how to locate it. Not that she wanted to.

----

As Muffy wandered down the hallway of Uppity Downs Academy with her classmate Neville, a black-haired rabbit boy, she pressed him for more details on Newton's third law of motion.

"I still don't understand. If every action has an equal and opposite reaction, then how does anything move? If I push you, then you push me right back, and the forces are equal, so neither of us moves, right?"

"It's not that simple," Neville explained. "Your mass isn't the same as mine, and the acceleration is equal to the force divided by the mass. Plus there's the fact that your shoes are exerting a force on the..."

Neville suddenly noticed that Muffy was no longer walking alongside him. Looking back, he saw that she had turned aside and was pushing open the door to the girls' washroom.

"Hmph," he grunted. "How rude." Checking his watch, he continued onward.

Sitting at his desk as Mr. Pryce-Jones passed around the science tests, Neville wondered why Muffy hadn't arrived yet. _I guess that big nose of hers takes longer to powder,_ he thought.

Then Muffy walked nonchalantly into the classroom. Mr. Pryce-Jones and all the other students looked at her...and froze in shock.

All eyes followed her as she made her way to her seat. Nobody moved or uttered a sound.

Climbing into her desk, Muffy noted with curiosity that everybody was staring at her with expressions of muted disbelief. "What's going on?" she asked obliviously.

Mr. Pryce-Jones straightened up and cleared his throat. "You seem to have forgotten something, Muffy."

Mavis, the red-headed hamster girl with glasses, let out a long-suppressed giggle.

Muffy looked down...and saw that she was dressed in nothing but her undershirt and underpants.

"AAAAAARRRRGH!"

(To be continued...)


	2. Muffy's Bad Day Gets Worse

Having quickly put her clothes back on, Muffy returned to the classroom five minutes late and started to take the science test. She soon realized that an additional five minutes would have made little difference.

"I'm going to kill Marina," she muttered silently and bitterly. "In what year did Einstein publish...I don't care what powers she has...theory of relativity...I'm going to strangle her with my bare hands..."

Suddenly Muffy heard a familiar and unwelcome voice in her head. "The answer is 1905."

"Stop that!" Muffy blurted out angrily. "I'm gonna kill you, you hear me?"

Mr. Pryce-Jones' eyes widened. All the other kids turned and shot Muffy annoyed looks.

"Is there a problem, Muffy?" the teacher asked calmly.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Muffy gaped and stuttered. "Uh...er..."

Then Connor, the horse boy, smiled at her. "You've got Tourette's. We understand."

All as one, the kids went back to their tests. Muffy, relieved at not having to explain her outburst, quickly wrote down "1905" and moved on to the next question.

It seemed like no time at all before the bell rang. The kids quietly handed their tests to Mr. Pryce-Jones and exited the classroom...all except for Muffy, who remained at her desk and stared hopelessly at the sheet of paper in front of her.

The teacher walked to the back of the room where Muffy was seated. She slowly looked up, then lowered her head again.

"The test is over," Mr. Pryce-Jones informed her. "And, unless you can bring me a signed doctor's statement that you really have Tourette's syndrome, I'm afraid I'll have to give you detention for disrupting the class."

"Whatever." Muffy gestured at the paper. "Just take it. Get it out of my sight."

Mr. Pryce-Jones picked up the sheet of paper and looked over it with interest. "This is perfect," he noted. "I don't know what you're so depressed about."

"It's perfect because my stupid blind telepathic ex-friend Marina dictated the answers to me!" cried Muffy, her voice rising in pitch with each word. Then she calmed down. "Uh...Mr. Pryce-Jones, sir," she added meekly.

"Ah, yes." The teacher adjusted his spectacles. "I watched you on the news. You're aware that things like ESP and mental telepathy don't exist, right?"

"I'd like to see you come up with a better explanation for why I did so well on the test," said Muffy petulantly.

As Mr. Pryce-Jones walked away with the test in his hand, he quipped, "You've almost made a believer out of me, Miss Crosswire."

Pulling on her coat and shuffling sadly out of the room, Muffy encountered the concerned face of Mavis, her best friend in the class. "I'm sorry I giggled at you, Muffy," she said.

Muffy glared at her. "Why are you apologizing for one lousy giggle? If this had happened at my old school, they would have been rolling on the floor."

"I don't know why you chose to come to class in your underwear," Mavis went on, "and it's really none of my business. But I shouldn't have giggled. It wasn't funny. 'The School for Scandal' by Richard Brinsley Sheridan is funny. A kid in her underwear isn't funny."

As Muffy and Mavis strolled down the hallway together, Muffy attempted to explain her behavior. "You saw me on the news, right? I've got this friend who has telepathic powers, and she helped me find the kidnapper. Now she's angry with me because I told everybody about her powers on TV, and she wants to keep them a secret."

"So it was your friend who made you take off your clothes?" asked Mavis.

"Yeah. She has long-distance hypnotic powers. And she told me the answers to the questions on the test."

"Well, she did you a favor, then," said Mavis as she and Muffy exited the school building.

"No, she didn't," Muffy retorted. "She just wanted to show me how much smarter she is. Whatever gave her her powers also made her a super-brainiac."

In the playground before them, two sweater-clad boys sat on either end of the seesaw, enjoying a lively debate on whether the universe was ultimately knowable while going up and down. Two girls with jackets and scarves stood by the jungle gym, discussing their crushes on famous artists and intellectuals.

Muffy and Mavis sat down in two unoccupied swings. "Mr. Pryce-Jones says things like that aren't real," said Mavis. "ESP and fortune-telling and telekinesis and all that. But I can't help wondering...what would I do if I had super mind powers?"

Mavis fantasized that she was seated in front of a TV set, watching a presidential address.

"...which is why I'm asking Congress for sixty-eight gazillion dollars to clean up the mess created by the last president in Karjakistan, and for thirty-two gazillion dollars to station peacekeepers in Palookistan to avoid creating a mess there until the next president is sworn in..."

Disgusted with the proceedings, Mavis placed her fingers on her temples and emitted a telepathic beam from her forehead. The beam traversed the nation, landing in the White House and enveloping the President's head. Slightly dazed, he continued his address.

"...which is why I'm asking Congress for sixty-eight gazillion dollars to increase the budget for public television, so that we can all learn to work and play and get along with each other."

"I'll tell you what I would do if I had powers," said Muffy dreamily.

She fantasized that she was seated in the third row from the front at a Backstreet Boys concert. During a pause between songs, Nick Carter was waving his arm over the audience. "I'd like a volunteer from the audience," he announced.

All the kids in the audience (which included Muffy's friends from Lakewood Elementary) raised their arms and yelled loudly--except for Muffy, who simply rubbed her temples and concentrated.

Suddenly Nick's arm froze in mid-wave and swiveled mechanically to point at Muffy, much to his surprise. "Uh...you, there, with the braids," he said into the microphone.

As her fantasy ended, Muffy gazed ecstatically into the distance.

"Uh, Muffy?" said Mavis, trying to get her friend's attention.

Muffy didn't answer, but appeared to be in a rapturous trance.

"Muffy," asked Mavis, "who are the Backstreet Boys?"

----

About two hours after the end of school, Muffy rode in her limousine toward Marina's house, determined to castigate the blind girl for the torment and embarrassment she had suffered.

"Wait here, Bailey," she instructed the chauffeur as the limo pulled over. "If you hear any screaming from the house, don't call the police."

"Yes, Miss Muffy," droned Bailey.

Climbing out of the vehicle, Muffy hurried to the front door and rang the bell. Shortly the door opened, and Mrs. Messersmith, Marina's mother, greeted her. The woman's face was pallid, and her eyes reflected confusion and sorrow.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Messersmith?" asked Muffy with concern.

"It's Marina," the woman replied. "Come in, Muffy."

As she entered the house and started to take off her coat, Muffy gasped to see Marina prostrate on the couch, pale and trembling. She was clad in the black overcoat that she customarily wore in cold weather. Muffy noted that several medium-length, reddish-brown hairs were visible on the surface of the coat.

"Who is it?" asked Marina in a weak, anxious voice. "Who's there?" Her eyes seemed to gaze into nothingness, and made no attempt to connect with Muffy's.

"It's me, Marina!" Muffy rushed forward and grabbed the sick-looking girl's hand. "It's Muffy!"

"Muffy who?" asked Marina.

(To be continued...)


	3. It's Dark in Here

Muffy's mouth fell open. How could Marina not know her?  
  
"I'm Muffy Crosswire," she said slowly. "I'm your friend. You've been torturing me all day."  
  
Marina pulled her hand away from Muffy's. "I never heard of you," she mumbled.  
  
Marina's father walked up to Muffy. "She doesn't remember us, either," he informed her. "We think she must have hit her head. They found her behind an old abandoned house."  
  
"A doctor's on the way," said Marina's mother.  
  
"It's dark in here," said Marina deliriously. "I'm scared."  
  
Muffy grabbed her cell phone and dialed a number. As she waited for an answer, she plucked one of the reddish-brown hairs from Marina's overcoat and examined it curiously. "Looks like a dog hair," she muttered.  
  
Then she heard a voice on the other end of the line. "Hello?"  
  
"Prunella, come to Marina's house, quick!"  
  
----  
  
"She has amnesia," Prunella announced to her gathered friends. "She doesn't remember me, or Muffy, or even her own parents. And she's not telepathic anymore."  
  
Arthur, Francine, Alan, Fern, George, and Beat absorbed this news with surprise and concern as they stood in the center court of Lakewood Elementary.  
  
"Did she fall down and hit her head?" asked Arthur.  
  
"I don't know," Prunella replied. "The doctor didn't find any evidence of head trauma. Nothing seems to be wrong with her, except she's really weak and she's lost her memory."  
  
"If she lost her memory but she didn't hit her head," George observed, "that can mean only one thing. She found out about the aliens and they wiped her brain."  
  
"Shut up, Buster," Alan snapped at him.  
  
"She's blind," Fern noted. "How would she see the aliens?"  
  
"They have an unmistakable smell," George answered. "They communicate by..."  
  
"If it's only amnesia, I wouldn't worry," said Beat, interrupting George. "Most amnesia victims recover their memories over time."  
  
"It's not just people she's forgotten," said Prunella. "She can't read Braille anymore. She's forgotten how to use her cane. It's like she's reverted to before she went blind."  
  
"It's worse than that." Mr. Baker, the hippo who taught fifth grade, walked up and joined the group. "I visited the Messersmiths this morning. Marina can't spell simple words or do basic arithmetic. Mentally, she's at kindergarten level."  
  
"That's horrible!" Francine exclaimed. "Where is she now?"  
  
"Until we find a special teacher for her," replied Mr. Baker in his booming voice, "I've left her in some competent hands."  
  
----  
  
With one arm around Marina's shoulders, Mrs. Messersmith carefully led her daughter into Miss Cosma's kindergarten classroom. The blind girl held her cane in one hand, and from time to time her mother took her by the wrist and made her tap on the floor with the cane.  
  
The kids in Miss Cosma's class--D.W., Nadine, Emily, Vicita, Dallin, and the Tibbles-- gasped and squealed with surprise at the sight of the young stranger.  
  
"Kids, we have a visitor today," said Miss Cosma, who sat on the floor in front of her pupils, holding a cutout paper chain in her hands. "This is Marina. She's special because she's blind."  
  
"What's blind?" asked Tommy as Marina's mother helped her into a sitting position between D.W. and Emily.  
  
"That means she can't see, stupid," Nadine replied.  
  
"What's so special about that?" said Timmy. Marina's mother stepped to the back of the room and watched with her arms folded.  
  
D.W. looked at Marina. "How old are you?" she asked.  
  
"I don't know." Marina turned her face in D.W.'s direction. "Where are you? I can't see you."  
  
"I'm five years old," said D.W. "We're all five except for Vicita. She's four."  
  
"My mom says I'm ten," said Marina. "But that's too old for kindergarten."  
  
The other kids laughed. "She's funny," said Emily.  
  
Miss Cosma set down the paper chain and rubbed her hands together. "Marina is going to lead us in one of her favorite songs," she announced.  
  
"I don't know any songs," said Marina, glancing about nervously.  
  
"Crazy Bus!" shouted D.W., a silly grin on her face.  
  
"Crazy what?" Marina responded.  
  
"I'll teach you," D.W. offered. She began to sing, accompanied by the other kids. Marina soon picked up the melody and lyrics, and started to sing along confidently. "Crazy Bus, Crazy Bus, riding on the Crazy Bus..."  
  
----  
  
At this moment Binky, wearing a brown parka, was walking toward the elementary school entrance when he saw Quinn Cooper's Buick parked at the curb. Odette was unfolding Van's wheelchair and setting it down on the sidewalk.  
  
Binky approached her. "Hey, Odette, can I help?"  
  
The swan girl raised her head. Binky could make out several faded black and blue marks on her face--indications of the treatment she had received at the hands of her captors.  
  
"I'm fine, Binky," she said emotionlessly.  
  
As she reached into the car and grabbed Van around the waist, Binky also stuck in a hand to support the boy's lower back. Odette let go of Van and pushed Binky away. "Please don't bother me right now," she grumbled.  
  
Binky stared incredulously as Odette lifted Van into his chair. She then climbed into the vehicle and closed the door, and Quinn started to drive away.  
  
Van swiveled his wheelchair to face Binky. "Sorry about my sister. She's been really grumpy ever since she was rescued."  
  
"I wanted to ask her if she was going to the recital on Saturday," said Binky, a hint of discouragement in his voice.  
  
"I doubt it." Van turned his chair and started toward the handicapped ramp. "I think she just wants to be left alone."  
  
As Van disappeared into the school building, Binky shook his head sadly. A moment later he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Couldn't help but notice." Binky turned his head and found that Molly was talking to him. "Bad luck with the girls?"  
  
"That's rough, dude," remarked Rattles, who was standing next to Molly.  
  
"What do you guys want?" asked Binky contemptuously.  
  
"Well, less homework for starters..." said Rattles before Molly jabbed him with her elbow.  
  
"We just want to offer our sympathy," said Molly, removing her hand from Binky's shoulder.  
  
Binky walked sadly up the stairway toward the school entrance, while Molly and Rattles followed close behind.  
  
"You gotta give her some time, man," Rattles advised him. "Being kidnapped is very...uh, dramatic."  
  
"You mean traumatic," Binky corrected him.  
  
"I can see it in her eyes," said Molly as the threesome entered the building. "Something happened to her that she doesn't want to talk about. She was married to a guy with four wives, you know. When a girl goes through something like that, it changes the way she looks at boys."  
  
Binky stopped walking. "Fine!" he blurted out. "I'll give her all the time she needs. I can wait."  
  
"She's too old for you, anyway," Rattles commented. "There's plenty of girls in this school who have the hots for you, man."  
  
"Rattles speaks the truth," said Molly. "I mean, what girl could resist your handsome face and bulging muscles? Well, besides me."  
  
Binky looked at Rattles. "Prunella told me the same thing. She said there are lots of girls who like me, but I think she was talking about herself."  
  
"Dude, stay away from Prunella," Rattles warned him. "That girl's, like, totally psycho."  
  
"Yeah, I know," said Binky. "But how do I find out what girls like me? I can't just go up to them and ask them."  
  
"You don't have to." Rattles yanked off his backpack, reached inside, and pulled out a tape recorder. "We put a bug in the girls' bathroom."  
  
As Binky's mouth fell open in surprise, Molly pulled her ears down over her eyes and walked away, muttering, "I hear nothing...I see nothing...I know nothing..."  
  
(To be continued...) 


	4. His Master's Voice

Hidden inside the air vent in the girls' washroom was a small wireless microphone. It transmitted whatever sounds it picked up to a receiver plugged into Rattles' tape recorder. Two sets of headphones were also attached to the recorder. Seated at a table in an empty classroom, Rattles placed one of the sets of headphones over his ears, while Binky, sitting next to him, did the same. 

They sat for half a minute in silence, hearing nothing but the dripping of water from a leaky faucet.

"Dude, we shouldn't be doing this," said Binky with a worried expression.

"Why not?" Rattles glowered at him.

"Uh...because we're missing recess?"

Peering through the small window inside of the classroom door, Rattles saw that two girls were making their way to the bathroom. He grinned with wicked delight. "Two at a time. Awesome." Then he pushed the red button on his tape recorder.

"Francine and Jenna," Binky observed. "I don't know if I really want to hear their secrets."

Inside the girls' room, Francine caught up with Jenna. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Francine," said Jenna, completely unaware that her every word was being preserved on tape.

"Remember last year when George thought you had a crush on him?" Francine asked her.

"Yeah, I remember." Jenna chuckled. "How could I forget?"

"What was it like?" Francine inquired. "He gave you flowers and stuff, right?"

"Yeah, he did. Flowers and chocolates. For a weird kid, he can be romantic when he wants to be. I finally had to tell him I didn't really have a crush on him."

"Hmm." Francine appeared deep in thought.

"Why do you want to know? You don't have a crush on him, do you?"

Francine lowered her face in shame. "I do," she admitted.

Binky smiled broadly as he listened in. "Francine and George," he exulted. "I never would have guessed."

"I told you this was a good idea," Rattles said to him.

"Promise you won't tell him, Jenna," said Francine earnestly.

"You have my word as a sister," Jenna told her.

"Like that's worth anything," quipped Binky. "Get it in writing, Francine."

"Thanks, Jenna." Francine turned and walked out of the girls' room.

The next sound Binky and Rattles heard was a stall door slamming shut. Rattles pulled off his headphones and stopped the tape recorder. "Well, was that cool, or what?"

"I wonder if I should tell George," said Binky as he removed his headphones.

"Why bother?" Rattles replied. "That's what girls are for. No amount of fiber optics will ever beat the good ol' grapevine."

----

After school, the kids started to gather at their usual hangout, the Sugar Bowl. At one table, Muffy and Francine sat across from each other, discussing the situation with Marina.

"The doctors still don't know how she lost her memory," said Muffy. "I've been calling them every half hour. I wish they'd pick up the pace."

At another table, Jenna and George faced each other. Jenna alternated between talking with George and turning her head to look at Francine.

A moment later Arthur walked into the ice cream shop and stopped in front of Francine and Muffy's table. "Hey, Arthur," said Francine. "What's the latest on Sue Ellen?"

"They're going in to remove another bone splinter tomorrow," Arthur informed her. "Hopefully she'll be out of the hospital this weekend."

"Spending so many days in the hospital must be vomitrociously expensive," Muffy remarked.

As Arthur sat down with the girls, a stranger shuffled through the Sugar Bowl entrance. She appeared to be about ten years old, and had the face of a white horse, with a patch of gray running down her nose. As she glanced around at the unfamiliar locale, her eyes caught hold of a girl who sat alone at one of the tables in the back.

Gathering courage, she approached the girl. "Fern?"

"Greta!" Fern leaped to her feet, a relieved smile on her face.

Greta, the white horse girl, smiled and grabbed Fern's hands. "I'm so sorry for doubting you, Fern."

"It's okay," Fern responded. "After what happened to Odette, I can't blame you."

----

Dark Bunny pulled himself over the edge of a rooftop and struggled to his feet. As he bent down to pick up his grapple, he saw out of the corner of his eye a faint outline in the shadows. Stepping closer, he beheld the voluptuous figure and pointed nose of his favorite super-villainess.

"Well, well," he said tauntingly. "Rat Woman. What's a bad girl like you doing out on a night like this?"

"Save the sweet talk for later, Dark," Rat Woman answered. "I'm here to help you." The moonlight reflected seductively off of her leather body suit.

"Why should I believe you?" asked Dark Bunny incredulously.

"The commissioner offered me my own series if I went straight."

Francine grinned slightly as she watched the proceedings from the couch in the Frensky living room.

In another corner of the apartment, her cat Nemo was busily grooming himself. Although he appeared placid on the outside, his cunning and dangerous feline mind was churning at supersonic speed...

"Eat, sleep, groom, eat, sleep, groom," he muttered quietly and bitterly. "That's what those accursed X-Pets have reduced me to. But soon my new laboratory will be completed, and then I, Magnemo, will have my revenge!"

Simultaneously, in the kitchen of the Read home, Mrs. Read was snapping Kate's jumper together. Lifting the baby from the table, she set her down on the living room floor and then turned to the unpleasant task of disposing of the soiled diaper.

Kate rose clumsily to her feet and waddled around, gurgling happily. A moment later Pal bounded into the room, chasing a rubber ball. When he picked up the smell of the diaper, he stopped in his tracks and grimaced.

"Ugh! Honestly, Kate! Cleaning up after your bowel movements is a labor worthy of Hercules."

"Who?" asked Kate obliviously.

Pal lay down and covered his nose with his paws, whining pathetically.

Then he perked up his ears. He heard something...an ethereal voice...

Kate stopped walking and looked at him. "Something wrong, Pal?"

In the Frenskys' apartment, Nemo also sensed the mysterious sound. He wiggled his ears this way and that, trying to find the source...but it seemed to come from every direction.

In the front yard of the Molina home, Amigo slowed down and stopped his pursuit of the bothersome snowbirds. Lifting his ears, he tried to make out the words that the strange voice was speaking...

Pal, Nemo, and Amigo all at once realized that they were not hearing anything with their ears...rather, the sound was coming from within their minds.

The voice became louder, more insistent. What started as curiosity quickly turned into an obsession, as the three pets found themselves unable to think about anything but the voice. They had to listen to it...understand it...obey it...

"Yes, my master," Pal, Nemo, and Amigo said in unison.

Then the voice suddenly faded from Pal's and Amigo's minds. Dazed and confused, they shook their heads and glanced around.

"Are you all right, Pal?" asked Kate, who was carefully scrutinizing the dog's face.

"Huh?" Pal suddenly became aware of his surroundings, and looked quizzically at Kate.

"You just said 'yes, my master'," Kate informed him.

Pal glared at her contemptuously. "I most certainly did not. I would never utter such cornball dialogue."

Meanwhile, Nemo was frozen in mid-groom, his will to resist having evaporated before the onslaught of the mysterious voice.

_Must leave apartment_, was the only thought present in his mind. _Must go to master..._

Rising to his paws, he stared at Francine, who was watching Dark Bunny and Rat Woman in the throes of a passionate kiss.

Then the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," called Francine.

The girl jumped from the couch eagerly. "It's gotta be George," she said to herself. "Please be George."

The moment Francine opened the apartment door, Nemo raced through the doorway and into the hall so quickly that she only vaguely noticed.

To Francine's gratification, George stood before her, clutching a bouquet of...

"Sunflowers?" she exclaimed unbelievingly.

"Aren't they pretty?" said the smiling moose boy.

Francine struggled to suppress the mocking laughter that she would have normally given way to at such an absurd sight.

"Uh...yes, they are," she stammered. "This is, uh, very thoughful of you, George."

George held out his hand, and Francine took from him the paper wrapper containing the flowers. "Thank you, George," she forced herself to say. "This is very sweet of you. Sunflowers are my second favorite kind of flower, next to roses."

"Roses," George muttered bashfully. "Okay."

"Red ones," Francine told him.

George waved at her and grinned. "Bye, Francine."

Smiling, Francine closed the door. As she turned, her expression morphed into one of extreme disappointment.

"Sunflowers," she grumbled. "They probably have insecticide all over them."

Her scowl grew darker and darker as she grabbed a vase from the shelf, filled it with tap water, and inserted the stems of the flowers into it. Resting it next to the kitchen sink, she turned it around so that the flowers faced the wall.

Returning to her seat on the couch, she sighed with discouragement. "Oh, well," she told herself, "there are plenty of other boys."

As she picked up the remote to change the channel, her sister Catherine walked out of her bedroom. "Oh, sunflowers," she remarked upon noticing the vase that Francine had set up. "Who gave you those?"

"Some boy," Francine responded indifferently.

Walking into the kitchen, Catherine turned the vase so that the flowers faced her.

"Catherine?" said Francine.

"Yeah?"

Francine took a deep breath. "Remember last year when you told me about that girl you liked?"

Catherine looked at her curiously. "Which girl?"

"The one you liked when you were my age," Francine answered.

"Oh, right." Catherine's expression came serious.

Francine paused, weighing her words carefully. "Were you ever afraid that... that you would grow up, and you would still like girls?"

"No," Catherine replied. "It was just a silly crush. I got over it. I'm normal, Frankie."

"Yeah," said Francine dejectedly. She looked away from her sister. "Normal."

"Where's Nemo?" asked Catherine, looking around the room.

Francine started to glance about as well. "Nemo? Kittykittykitty!"

At that moment, Nemo stood before the door leading out of the apartment building, emitting magnetic beams from his eyes. They enveloped the doorknob, causing it to turn. Within moments the door had opened wide, and Nemo strolled casually through the doorway.

He muttered single-mindedly to himself as he walked along the street: "Must go to master...must go to master..."

(To be continued...)


	5. Futility

"He's not in the building," announced Francine as she entered the apartment. "Someone must have let him out." 

"You can look for him tomorrow," said Mrs. Frensky, who was loading moist articles of clothing into the dryer. "It's getting dark."

Francine grabbed her red coat from the closet and started to pull it over her left arm. "I can't leave him out all night in the cold, Mom."

"Then you'd better find him quickly," said her mother.

Zipping her coat, Francine hurried down the stairway to the front entrance. To her surprise, she saw Beat Simon standing on the other side of the door, wearing a pink parka and cradling Nemo in her arms.

As Francine pulled the door open, Beat smiled at her. "You lost your kittycat, Frankie," she said sweetly.

Nemo, purring contentedly, looked up at Beat's face and said, "Mraawr" (which means, in English, "It would be so easy to destroy you").

The cold outside air seeped into the apartment building as Francine held the door open and fantasized. She imagined she saw a knight in shining armor riding toward her on a white charger, holding a striped cat in its hand. Coming to a stop in front of her, the knight pulled off its helmet to reveal Beat's face and unruly black hair underneath. Beat then lowered her metal-clad hand and placed the cat gently in Francine's welcoming arms.

Francine smiled gratefully...then shook her head vigorously in an attempt to make the fantasy disappear.

"Dang it, Beat!" she exclaimed angrily. "You're not making this easy for me!"

Grasping Nemo tightly, she turned and walked up the stairway as the front door closed on the confused Beat.

----

At the same time, Fern's parents were snuggling together on the couch in their living room, watching the beginning of a mystery movie on TV. The title appeared in large letters on the screen: AGATHA GRISLY'S MURDER WITH A DISORIENTED EXPRESSION.

"I just love a good murder...er, mystery," said Mr. Walters eagerly.

In the movie, Hercule Poulet, an elegantly dressed chicken man who spoke with a distinguished French accent, was checking into a room at the Dunn Inn. He glanced at a sign hanging over the front desk, bearing the words 72 MURDER-FREE DAYS.

"An enviable record, monsieur," Mr. Poulet remarked.

"Thank you, sir," said the desk clerk.

Suddenly they heard a woman's scream from one of the upper floors...

"Mon Dieu!" cried Poulet. "Call ze police, quickly!"

The clerk picked up an antiquated desk set, but found that there was no dial tone. "The phone's cut off!" he exclaimed anxiously.

"Let me try." Pulling a cell phone from the pocket of his beige suit coat, Poulet flipped it open but found that the monitor was blank. "Dead," he observed astutely. "I shall have to drive to ze police station."

"You can't," said the clerk. "We're snowed in."

"Zen zere is only one possible conclusion," said Poulet, gesturing dramatically with his finger. "Someone in zis building...is a murderer!"

As ominous music played in the background, the door to the Walters' home opened and Fern entered, followed closely behind by Greta.

"Hi, Fern," said Mrs. Walters, who tried to look at her daughter and the TV screen at the same time. "Who's your friend?"

"I'm Greta," said the horse girl. "Greta von Horstein."

"Take off your coat and make yourself comfortable," said Mr. Walters.

"This is my house," Fern said to Greta, waving her arm. "Those are my parents, that's the TV..."

Greta looked at the screen with interest. "Oh, is that 'Murder with a Disoriented Expression'?"

"Yes, it is," Mrs. Walters replied.

"I've read it," said Greta. "I've read all of Agatha Grisly's mysteries. This must be the made-for-cable version that came out last year. It's been adapted three times before. I think the 1963 version with Sir Alec Grimace is the best so far."

Fern stared motionlessly at her, astonished at her display of cinematic knowledge.

"Where's your computer, Fern?" asked Greta.

Fern led Greta to the other side of the living room, where the family computer was sitting on top of a desk, surrounded by peripheral devices and reams of papers with circuit schematics printed on them.

"My dad put this computer together from used parts," she explained. "He's an engineer."

Greta looked at the monitor. "You're still running Microstuff Portholes," she noted. "Lunix is the wave of the future, you know. It's more powerful, more reliable, and your money doesn't go into the pockets of the Microstuff monopoly. I have it on my computer, and I can do real-time video editing."

"Is there anything you're not good at?" Fern asked her.

"Quantum information theory," Greta replied. "But only because it's a new field."

Fern pointed toward her bedroom. "Let's go in my room and talk poetry," she suggested.

The two girls went into the bedroom, closed the door behind them, and seated themselves in two office chairs. "I really loved that Wilfred Owen poem you sent me," said Fern wistfully.

"It's a wonderful poem," said Greta. "No poet could ever express the futility of war better than Wilfred Owen. He even wrote a poem called 'Futility'. Have you read it?"

"No," Fern answered.

Greta started to recite:

"Move him into the sun,

Gently its touch awoke him once,

At home, whispering of fields unsown,

Always it woke him, even in France,

Until this morning and this snow..."

Midway through the poem, Greta began to choke up and could not continue. "He died when he was twenty-five," she related, her voice filled with emotion. "Killed in the war only a week before the armistice."

"That's so sad," Fern remarked.

"I had hoped he would survive the war, and write more poems," Greta went on.

Fern gave her a surprised look.

"I mean, I wish he had survived the war, and written more poems," Greta corrected herself.

----

Odette lay on her bed in the room she shared with her sister Quinn, reading _Henry Skreever and the Cabbage of Mayhem_ and listening to a recording of Ravel's ballet _Daphnis and Chloe_. It had been three days since her rescue from the Higher Power compound, and she was still considerably thinner than she had been before the kidnapping.

As she turned the page to begin Chapter 5 (_Persephone Goes to the Library and Finds a New and Dangerous Spell_), Quinn walked into the room, holding a cordless phone receiver. "Call for you, Odette. It's Binky."

Sighing with exasperation, Odette laid the book down next to her and put the receiver to the side of her head. "This isn't a good time, Binky," she said impatiently.

"I just want to know if you're going to the recital," came Binky's friendly voice.

"No, I'm not," replied the swan girl. "I'm taking a break from ballet, and I'm taking a break from you. I'm sorry, but I need some time to myself."

"How much time?" Binky asked.

Odette closed her eyes tightly and gritted her beak.

"Hello?"

"Binky," said Odette slowly and sternly, "there are lots of girls your own age who like you."

"I just want to help," Binky offered. "You don't have to be my..."

Odette pushed the off button to end the call, and laid the receiver on the end table. "I'm not the same girl you remember," she muttered quietly.

----

"In what year did the Bolshevik Revolution take place?" asked Mrs. Stiles, who held a set of notes in her hands.

"Uh...1917," Muffy answered.

"Correct." Muffy's former teacher sat across from her in a recliner. "Now, who was the leader of the Bolshevik party at that time?"

"Vladimir Lenin," Muffy replied confidently.

"Correct." Mrs. Stiles pored over her notes for a second. "Who are the proletariat?"

"Uh...the class of peasants and workers who don't own land," said Muffy.

"Very good. Now why did the proletariat support the Bolshevik Revolution?"

"Um...er...because the Bolsheviks promised to put them in charge and give them land, and they also promised to stop the war effort."

"Excellent." Mrs. Stiles rose from her chair. "Now let's take a break, and then we'll work on your algebra."

Muffy followed her into the kitchen, where she opened the oven door to check the progress of a batch of peanut butter cookies.

"Mrs. Stiles," asked Muffy curiously, "what would happen if we had a Bolshevik Revolution here in America?"

The polar bear woman eyed her quizzically. "I don't think that would ever happen, Muffy."

"But it could happen," Muffy insisted. "Like, if everybody was really poor, and couldn't buy land or food."

Mrs. Stiles closed the oven door. "Under those circumstances it might happen," she mused.

"That would be scary," Muffy pondered. "They'd probably shoot my dad."

"Let's not think about that," said the former teacher as she pulled a jug of milk from the refrigerator.

The doorbell rang. "Will you please get that, Muffy?" Mrs. Stiles requested.

Muffy opened the door to the apartment, and to her surprise, Cedric Pryce-Jones stood in the doorway.

"Er...ah...hello, Mr. Pryce-Jones, sir," she stammered.

Muffy's teacher adjusted his spectacles and folded his arms. "School is not in session, Muffy," he said officiously. "You don't need to call me sir."

Mrs. Stiles set down the milk jug and hurried to Muffy's side. "You're Mr. Pryce-Jones?" she asked in an almost reverential tone. "Cedric Pryce-Jones?"

"That I am, madam," he replied.

"Do come in," Mrs. Stiles offered. "It's an honor to be in the presence of an educator of your stature."

Mr. Pryce-Jones strode into the apartment and glanced at the movie posters on the walls. "The honor is mine, madam. Your accomplishments as a thespian are very...er...well-known."

"Who is it, Jean?" came a woman's voice from the bedroom. A moment later, Angela Ratburn emerged.

Mr. Pryce-Jones' mouth fell open with surprise when he saw her face.

Angela, in turn, became ghastly pale with fear...

(To be continued...)


	6. Blinded by Science

Mr. Pryce-Jones' surprised look changed into a welcoming smile. "Angie Ratburn. After all these years."  
  
Angela remained pale and speechless. "You know her?" Muffy asked her teacher.  
  
"Know her?" Mr. Pryce-Jones chuckled wistfully. "She was my star pupil, Muffy. I couldn't teach her a thing she didn't already know."  
  
"Of course!" Muffy slapped her forehead. "She's the Rat's twin. They must have been in your class together."  
  
Mr. Pryce-Jones walked closer to Angela, who was biting her lip and trying to stay calm. "Nigel never talks to me about you," he said curiously. "What have you been doing with your life?"  
  
"Um...uh..." Angela stammered.  
  
"Law school? Medical school? Education?"  
  
"Yes, education." Angela smiled weakly. "I've been teaching, just like Nigel and Rodentia."  
  
Pryce-Jones glanced down at the woman's midsection. "Are you...pregnant?"  
  
Mrs. Stiles quickly stepped between Angela and Pryce-Jones. "I'm in the middle of tutoring Muffy right now," she said hastily. "So if you have business with me or Angela, could you possibly..."  
  
"I have only one question," Pryce-Jones replied, "and you may answer at your leisure. I'm curious to know what learning methods you're using with Muffy."  
  
Mrs. Stiles and Muffy gave him blank stares.  
  
"Muffy has progressed more rapidly than any student I have ever taught," Pryce-Jones continued, "particularly in the field of science. Just yesterday she achieved a perfect score on a science test, after having failed the previous two tests."  
  
"But that was..." Muffy began to say.  
  
Pryce-Jones held a hand in front of Muffy's face. "I know that this marked improvement didn't come about through any effort of mine," he said to Mrs. Stiles. "Muffy claims she had telepathic assistance from a friend, but we all know that such a thing is impossible. So I can only conclude that your methods of teaching science are superior to my own."  
  
Mrs. Stiles blushed and stammered. "But...there isn't..."  
  
"There's no need to be modest," said Mr. Pryce-Jones. "I'll come back tomorrow evening, and I'd like you to have some materials ready so I can study your teaching methods, if it's not too much to ask for. I'd especially like to know where you got the idea of helping Muffy with her pre-test anxiety by sending her to class dressed only in her..."  
  
"Uh, Mr. Pryce-Jones, sir," Muffy suddenly interrupted, "Mrs. Stiles would be more than happy to tell you all about her new science education program."  
  
Mrs. Stiles gaped at her. Pryce-Jones thoughtfully put a finger to his chin.  
  
"Does this program have a name?" he asked, looking back and forth between Muffy and Mrs. Stiles.  
  
"Yes," Muffy replied. "It's called...er...ah...Blinded by Science."  
  
Mrs. Stiles looked as if she might panic at any moment.  
  
"Intriguing name," Mr. Pryce-Jones remarked. "I look forward to hearing all about it tomorrow. Now, I must go. Thank you for your time, madam."  
  
Mrs. Stiles hurried to the door and opened it so that Mr. Pryce-Jones could leave. She then turned and glared at Muffy.  
  
"Blinded by Science?" she exclaimed indignantly. "I've never heard of such a program."  
  
"That's because we haven't created it yet," said Muffy confidently. "And we've got twenty-four hours, so we'd better get cracking."  
  
Mrs. Stiles closed the door and put her hands on her hips. "You don't create a science curriculum in just twenty-four hours, Muffy."  
  
"We don't have to do it all at once," Muffy told her. "We'll just make up something to convince Mr. Pryce-Jones, and after that we can finish the job."  
  
"What do you mean, 'we'?" asked Angela. "I want no part of this. If Nigel and Rodentia find out I'm involved in your program, they'll oppose it."  
  
"Don't you get it?" Muffy gestured broadly before the two women. "This could be your big break. All the other fancy educational programs are just the same old material in colorful boxes, but they still work. And with a respected teacher like Mr. Pryce-Jones endorsing us, how can we fail?"  
  
Mrs. Stiles folded her arms. "You can't be serious. Cedric Pryce-Jones is too smart to fall for such a trick. He'll make a public mockery of me."  
  
"You'll never get another teaching job in Elwood City," said Muffy.  
  
Mrs. Stiles opened her mouth as if to make another point, then closed it and became thoughtful. Even Angela appeared as if she was considering the idea.  
  
"What exactly do you have in mind?" Mrs. Stiles asked Muffy.  
  
"For starters," Muffy proposed, "let's go over all the science lessons you taught me, and write them down in the form of a conversation."  
  
----  
  
The next day, Binky and Rattles were once again sitting in the empty classroom, listening to the output from the hidden microphone in the girls' bathroom.  
  
"Whatever happened to her must have been really bad for her to give up ballet," Binky said to Rattles. "She was totally obsessed with it before."  
  
As the boys chatted, the face of Principal Haney became visible through the inset window of the classroom door. As he peered at Binky and Rattles, they started to bounce rhythmically in their chairs as if moving to the beat of a rock song that played through their headphones. Mr. Haney rolled his eyes and walked away from the door.  
  
Rattles stopped bouncing. "Dude, I hope he doesn't suspect anything."  
  
A few seconds later, the two boys saw Francine and Jenna making their way into the girls' room. "There they go again," said Binky. "Maybe they'll talk about George."  
  
Rattles pushed the red button on his tape recorder as the words of the two girls became audible through his and Binky's headphones.  
  
"I was wrong about George," Francine told Jenna. "I don't have a crush on him after all. Now I see that Van is the boy my heart belongs to."  
  
Jenna, her eyes wide with surprise, could utter nothing more than a few vowel sounds.  
  
"I just can't take my eyes off him," Francine went on. "He's so cute...and friendly...and nice...and cute..."  
  
"Francine and Van?" Binky could barely hide his astonishment. "What happened to Francine and George? Why can't that girl make up her mind?"  
  
"Dude, did you just, like, say 'girl' and 'make up her mind' in the same sentence?" asked Rattles.  
  
"Great," said the visibly irritated Jenna. "Just great. What am I supposed to do now...tell all the girls that you have a crush on Van instead of George?" Realizing what she had just admitted to, Jenna gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.  
  
Francine, however, seemed undisturbed by her slip of the tongue. "If it's not too much trouble, Jenna. Just don't tell Van, okay?"  
  
"You have my word as a sister," Jenna reassured her.  
  
"Dude, why would she have a crush on a dork in a wheelchair?" Rattles wondered.  
  
Binky turned and glowered at him. "It's not his fault he's in a wheelchair."  
  
"Okay, fine, whatever." Rattles looked away from Binky.  
  
For several more seconds the boys listened to the conversation between Francine and Jenna, which had turned to the less interesting subject of badminton.  
  
Rattles looked at Binky again. "So whose fault is it that he's a dork?"  
  
----  
  
Later that day, in the Frensky apartment, Francine sat at her desk finishing her history report. Catherine sat on her bed at the opposite side of the room, painting her fingernails in preparation for a date.  
  
Francine glanced over at her sister. "Catherine, why do you always paint your nails before a date?"  
  
"It's just something girls do, Frankie," Catherine replied without looking at her.  
  
Francine picked up her pencil again, but could think of nothing to write. She laid down the pencil and turned her head once more. "Is it to look good for boys?" she asked Catherine.  
  
"I guess so," her sister answered.  
  
Francine thought for a moment. "So why don't boys paint their nails to look good for girls?" she inquired.  
  
"I don't know," Catherine answered. "I guess for the same reason that they don't wear dresses."  
  
As Francine turned and reached for her pencil, the phone rang. "Can you answer that, Frankie?" Catherine requested. "I'm busy."  
  
Hurrying to the phone, Francine picked up the receiver and heard the friendly voice of Van Cooper.  
  
"Hi, Francine," he said. "Maybe you've heard this, but there's a rumor going around the school that you have a crush on me."  
  
"Oh, really," Francine responded, a bit surprised at Van's directness. "I wonder how that got started."  
  
"It's probably just a rumor," Van continued, "but in case it isn't, I wanted to let you know that I'm already in a committed relationship with Muffy."  
  
"Committed...?" Francine sputtered.  
  
As she struggled to make sense of Van's words, the doorbell rang. Catherine raced from the bedroom to answer it, muttering, "It's him...it's him..."  
  
Meanwhile, Nemo raised his head from the water bowl and started to chase after Catherine. "Must go to master," he droned silently. "Must leave apartment. Must avoid British girl."  
  
"What do you mean, committed?" Francine said into the phone. "You two don't kiss, or make out, or anything."  
  
"Well, duh," came Van's voice. "We're fourth graders."  
  
Catherine opened the door and saw not her date, but George, smiling timidly and holding a bouquet of red roses in a plastic wrapper. Nemo streaked through the doorway quickly enough to evade Catherine's notice.  
  
Francine heard her sister calling. "Hey, Frankie, George is here. He has roses."  
  
"Tell him to go away," Francine snapped impatiently.  
  
"Muffy and I just hang out together," she heard Van saying. "It's not as exciting as it was when we were forbidden to see each other, but still..."  
  
"I gotta go now, Van," said Francine rapidly. "I don't have a crush on you. Bye."  
  
As she hung up the receiver, Catherine walked up alongside her. "I got rid of George for you," she announced. "But wasn't that a little rude?"  
  
A realization formed in Francine's mind. "Wait a minute. Did you...did you say he had roses?"  
  
"Yeah, roses," said Catherine. "Red ones."  
  
"D'oh!" exclaimed the consternated Francine.  
  
"What's going on with you?" Catherine asked curiously. "Why are boys leaving you flowers and calling you up all the time?"  
  
"Uh...uh..." Francine stammered.  
  
Catherine smiled knowingly. "I'm sorry I asked that. I know it's none of my business." She winked at Francine, and walked back into her room.  
  
Depressed and confused, Francine sat on the couch and used the remote to turn on the TV. Rat Woman appeared on the screen, subduing a band of thugs with her fluid karate moves.  
  
The action sequence went on for about five minutes, and then the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," said Francine.  
  
Hoping that George hadn't given up, she rushed to the door and opened it. To her eager eyes appeared a bouquet of red roses in a plastic wrapper...  
  
...with Beat Simon's hand wrapped around it.  
  
"I found these lying on the ground in front of your flat," said Beat, who was once again clad in her pink parka. "There was a tag with your name on it, so I..."  
  
"Oh, they're beautiful," said Francine dreamily. She felt an urge to reach forward, take the roses, smell them...and then she caught herself.  
  
"Keep them," she blurted out. Beat watched with alarm as the door slammed in her face.  
  
----  
  
Not far away, near a creek that flowed into the Elwood River, several large dogs walked in circles around an old, abandoned barn, as if guarding it from invaders. As they growled and sniffed the air, Nemo approached them through the unmowed weeds.  
  
"Halt! Who goes there?" shouted a female Doberman Pinscher who wore a collar.  
  
The cat walked toward her without fear. "I am Magnemo," he announced. "I have come to serve the master."  
  
"Proceed," said the Doberman, who then resumed her patrol.  
  
The barn door was open a crack, and Nemo quiclkly slipped through. Inside the structure were about a dozen dogs and cats of various breeds and sizes. Some were eating directly from bags of pet food, some were wandering aimlessly, and some were conversing quietly. At the other end of the barn sat the particular animal that Nemo had been seeking.  
  
He walked across the hay-strewn floor and kneeled before her. "I am your servant," he said meekly.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	7. How Rude!

At the same time that Nemo was receiving instructions from his new master, the Cooper family--father Mel, mother Valerie, and the children, Quinn, Logan, Odette, Van, Dallin, and baby Megan--was enjoying a dinner of tuna casserole and candied yams.  
  
"I ran into Roger Simon and his new lawyer today," said Mrs. Cooper, who was loading her plate with yams.  
  
"Really," Mr. Cooper remarked. "Who's the lucky fellow?"  
  
"All I know is, his name's Gary," his wife replied, "and he's a rat."  
  
As they ate and conversed merrily, the doorbell rang. "Come in," called Mrs. Cooper.  
  
The door flew open, and the warmly-dressed Muffy entered. "Hi, everybody," she said cheerily. "Hi, Van."  
  
Quinn sighed bitterly. "Always during dinner," she complained. "Someone forgot to put our names on the no-call list, and it wasn't me."  
  
"Come in, Muffy," said Mr. Cooper. "Join us for dinner."  
  
"Sorry we don't have any caviar," quipped Odette.  
  
Muffy closed the door, placed her coat on a nearby rack, and took a seat at the dinner table next to Van.  
  
"So how's Uppity Downs treating you?" Van asked her.  
  
"Well, I'm not failing as many tests as before," replied Muffy as she spooned some casserole onto her plate. "If it weren't for Mrs. Stiles' help, I'd be looking at eternity in fourth grade."  
  
"I hear the kids there are, like, total snobs," commented Logan with a mouth full of yams.  
  
"What's wrong with snobs?" asked Muffy.  
  
"They're really nice people," said Odette, "once you get rich."  
  
"I want to be a snob when I grow up," said Dallin.  
  
"Then take your elbows off the table," Mrs. Cooper told him.  
  
"How's your telepathic friend, Muffy?" asked Odette.  
  
"They still haven't figured out how she lost her memory," Muffy answered. "And she's not telepathic anymore."  
  
"You don't believe in that telepathic stuff, do you?" Quinn asked Odette.  
  
"I'll believe anything before I'll believe that Muffy Crosswire was responsible for my rescue," said Odette bitingly.  
  
Van glared at her indignantly. "Odette, don't you think a little gratitude is in order?"  
  
The table fell silent. All eyes turned to Van.  
  
"If it weren't for Muffy, you wouldn't be here," he continued. "But all you can do is insult her. I'm tired of it. Muffy's not as bad as you say."  
  
"Enough, children," said Mrs. Cooper. "Let's just be grateful that God in his mercy brought Odette back to us."  
  
"Mom..." Odette began to say.  
  
The others at the table looked at the swan girl, whose eyes were full of bitterness and sorrow.  
  
"I haven't told you everything that happened to me," said Odette, facing each of her family members in turn. "It was awful. I prayed and prayed that God would take me out of that place, but nothing happened. Now if God really cared about me, why didn't he answer?"  
  
Muffy and the Coopers became speechless. Finally Mr. Cooper spoke.  
  
"I don't know the answer to that. But maybe Reverend Fulsome does."  
  
Quinn rolled her eyes and groaned.  
  
"Quinn!" said Mrs. Cooper sharply.  
  
"We do not, and cannot understand..." said Quinn in a mocking imitation of the reverend.  
  
"That's enough." Mrs. Cooper's stern expression turned into one of compassion for Odette. "You'll just have to accept that God had a reason for allowing this to happen, and you'll be a better person because of it."  
  
"But I'm not a better person," Odette replied. "I feel totally different inside, and it's not an improvement."  
  
"I know exactly how you feel," Muffy said to her.  
  
"You do?" Odette appeared quite surprised.  
  
"One day I decided to dye my hair purple just for the heck of it," Muffy recounted. "I just felt...eeevil inside."  
  
Quinn and Odette shot angry looks at Muffy. Logan, Van, and Dallin started to laugh hysterically.  
  
----  
  
"Spirit, remove me from this place!" pleaded Mr. Baker, dressed in a 19th-century nightgown and made up to look like an elderly man.  
  
"I told you these were shadows of the things that have been," said Fern, who wore a white robe and white powder in her hair. "That they are what they are, do not blame me."  
  
"Remove me!" cried Mr. Baker. "I cannot bear it! Haunt me no longer!"  
  
Having heard this, Fern quickly backed away into the shadows until she could not be seen.  
  
The house lights came on, and Mr. Baker applauded cheerfully. "Very good, Fern. Very good."  
  
"Thanks, Mr. Baker," Fern responded.  
  
As she left the stage, Mr. Haney entered, clad in festive holiday robes. His was the role of the Ghost of Christmas Present.  
  
Fern took a seat at the back of the theatre, next to her new friend, Greta.  
  
"Not a bad performance," Greta commended her. "Although in the original book, Scrooge actually struggles with the ghost."  
  
"Is that so?" Fern mused.  
  
"Yes," Greta went on, "if that can be called a struggle in which the ghost with no visible resistance on its own part was undisturbed by any effort of its adversary..."  
  
Fern and Greta watched with interest as Mr. Baker and Mr. Haney acted out the visit of the second spirit to Ebenezer Scrooge.  
  
"Have they no refuge or resource?" asked Mr. Baker, gesturing toward the two wretchedly-dressed children, Ignorance and Want.  
  
"Are there no prisons?" replied Mr. Haney in a mocking voice. "Are there no workhouses?"  
  
Prunella, seated in the sound booth, pushed a button to produce the sound of a clock striking midnight. She then manipulated some levers, and a hooded, robed figure, suspended from the rafters by cords, floated onto the stage. Mr. Haney slowly receded into the darkness.  
  
"That doesn't look realistic at all," Greta whispered to Fern.  
  
"The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come has no lines," Fern muttered.  
  
"Maybe so," said Greta quietly, "but an actor can still make an impression without saying anything."  
  
A short while later the rehearsal came to a close as Scrooge and the Cratchits enjoyed a holiday feast, and Floyd Walton as Tiny Tim uttered his trademark line, "And God bless us, every one."  
  
Prunella turned on the house lights, and the actors began to congratulate each other on their fine performances.  
  
As they made their way to the dressing rooms, Fern and Greta met with Mr. Baker, who played the dual roles of Scrooge and director.  
  
"This is a very fine production, Mr. Baker," said Greta, "but I think it would be more convincing if you hired an actor to play the part of..."  
  
She stopped speaking when she noticed that the hippo man was staring directly into her eyes in an obsessive manner.  
  
He put out his hand and tried to touch her forehead, but she stepped back, suddenly looking frightened.  
  
"That lump on your forehead," said Mr. Baker curiously. "Has it always been there?"  
  
Fern examined Greta's face and observed that there was, indeed, a slightly raised area about an inch above her eyes, as if a growth on her skull were trying to protrude through the skin.  
  
"Uh...it was an accident," Greta answered nervously. "I fell down and hit my head on the corner of a table."  
  
"I see," said Mr. Baker as he pulled back his hand. "Tell me, do you have any interest in acting? I think you definitely have potential."  
  
"Thank you," Greta replied. "It so happens that I've been participating in the Camelot Community Theatre's productions for a little over a year now."  
  
"Camelot?" Mr. Baker's eyes narrowed. "Strange, I've been to all their shows, and I've never seen you."  
  
"I mostly work behind the stage," Greta explained. "Costume and set design. We need to go now, Mr. Baker."  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow night." The director walked past them, turning his head for one last intrigued glance at Greta.  
  
"I don't like the way he looks at me," said Greta as she and Fern entered the women's dressing room.  
  
"He looked at me the same way when I started acting," Fern told her. She placed her head underneath a running faucet and started to wash the ghostly makeup from her face and hair. "You're a little young to be designing costumes and sets," she remarked.  
  
Greta didn't answer, but simply gazed into the mirror and ran her hand over the lump on her forehead.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	8. Who Let the Dogs Out?

On Saturday, the first light snow of the season fell on Elwood City. The kids didn't take much notice, as it wasn't enough to build snow people or engage in snowball fights. Francine, in particular, was too busy scouring the neighborhood for her missing cat to even think about fun in the snow.  
  
Arthur and D.W. decided to stay indoors, enjoying a few games of Scrabble with their guest, Alan (formerly known as The Brain) Powers.  
  
"How do you spell 'schloopy'?" D.W. asked Arthur and Alan.  
  
Arthur peeked over at D.W.'s letters. "'Schloopy' isn't a real word," he informed her. "And you don't have the right letters anyway. That is, if it's spelled the way I think it's spelled."  
  
"'Schloopy' is too a real word," D.W. insisted. "It's in the Crazy Bus song."  
  
Arthur sighed bitterly. "You have an A and a T," he pointed out to D.W. "And there's a C on the board. You can spell 'cat'."  
  
"Yes!" Alan muttered quietly and eagerly.  
  
"How many points is that?" D.W. asked Arthur.  
  
"Three points."  
  
"That's not very many...is it?"  
  
"Just do it, D.W.," said Arthur impatiently.  
  
D.W. carefully placed two tiles on the game board, spelling the word CAT.  
  
"Thank you, D.W.," Alan exulted as he placed all seven of his tiles next to the T in CAT, spelling the word NEUTRINO.  
  
Arthur gaped. "What's a neutrino?"  
  
"It's a radioactive particle," Alan replied proudly. "I used all of my tiles, so I get fifty bonus points."  
  
"I could have used all my tiles if Arthur had let me put down 'schloopy'," D.W. complained.  
  
"I miss Buster," Arthur moaned. "I could beat him most of the time."  
  
There was a knock at the door. "Come on in," Arthur called out.  
  
The front door opened and Francine walked in, wearing her red coat and usual jeans. "Hey, boys," she addressed them, smiling.  
  
"I'm not a boy," D.W. pointed out.  
  
Arthur stood up from the floor. "Hi, Francine. Have you found Nemo yet?"  
  
"No, I haven't," Francine answered, "and thanks for not making any bad movie puns."  
  
"Have you tried the pound?" asked Alan, who was replacing the Scrabble tiles in the bag in preparation for a new game.  
  
"I was just there," said Francine. "I couldn't get in. There was a police line."  
  
Arthur's eyes widened (although it was hard to tell because of his glasses). "A police line? Why? What happened?"  
  
Francine took a seat on the couch. "I guess somebody broke in and let all the animals loose." She picked up the remote and switched on the TV. "Maybe it's on the news."  
  
She flipped channels until a news broadcast appeared on the screen. "In local news, police remain baffled as they investigate the breakin at the animal shelter," said the newswoman. "Reporting live from the scene is our correspondent, Wolf Blitzen."  
  
"I'm at the Elwood City Animal Shelter," said Wolf into his microphone, "where all the animals have gone missing. It seems that someone broke in during the night and cut open all of the cages. I'm talking to Mr. Sergei Helmholtz, the shelter manager."  
  
Wolf held the microphone in front of a rabbit man with a Russian accent. "I've never seen anything like it. It would take one person with a wire cutter hours to do this much damage. The guard who was on duty at the time claims that someone threw him into a closet and barricaded the door so he couldn't get out."  
  
As he spoke, the camera showed footage of the vast array of animal cages in the shelter. They appeared as if someone had systematically sliced them open.  
  
As Arthur watched from the couch next to D.W., Francine, and Alan, he noticed that Pal was sitting motionlessly on the floor, also observing the broadcast.  
  
"Weird," Francine remarked. "First pets start disappearing everywhere, and now this."  
  
"Who could have done such a thing?" Alan wondered.  
  
"This looks like the work of an old friend," Pal said to himself. "But why?"  
  
"Well, I don't think Nemo's at the pound," said Francine. "I guess there's nothing to do now but start putting up lost cat posters. As if the telephone poles aren't crowded enough already."  
  
"Yeah, and the funny thing is," Alan commented, "most of the missing pets are big dogs."  
  
Francine turned to Arthur and Alan. "Would you boys like to help me put up posters?"  
  
Arthur, D.W., and Alan looked at her with surprise.  
  
"I'm just a girl," Francine continued. "I can't do it all by myself."  
  
"Uh...sure, Francine, I'll help," said Arthur a bit hesitantly.  
  
"Me, too," said Alan.  
  
"Thanks, boys," said Francine sweetly. "You're so helpful."  
  
Alan shot Arthur a puzzled look.  
  
----  
  
At the Elwood Memorial Hospital, Carla led Sue Ellen toward the revolving doors that led to the outside world. The girl's left arm was in a full cast and sling, and she clutched a red balloon in her good hand.  
  
As the passed through the hospital exit, Sue Ellen saw two familiar, smiling faces waiting for her.  
  
"Mom! Dad!" As she rushed toward them, they knelt to embrace her.  
  
"Hello, honey," said Mr. Armstrong. "We came as soon as we could wrap things up in Jakarta."  
  
"Has Carla been treating you well?" Mrs. Armstrong asked her.  
  
"Oh, we've been having a great time," Sue Ellen replied. "Up until the accident, anyway."  
  
She followed Carla and her parents as they strolled down the sidewalk in the direction of the parking garage. "Are you here for good?" she asked. "Or are you gonna leave again?"  
  
"We're staying here until next summer," her father answered. "Then we're going to Bangladesh, and you're coming with us."  
  
"Awesome!" Sue Ellen exulted.  
  
"How's your arm feeling?" her mother asked.  
  
"It doesn't hurt, but that's just because of the painkillers. The doctor says it won't work as good anymore. I guess I'll have to give up tae kwon do."  
  
"Oh, come on," said Mr. Armstrong encouragingly. "Don't they teach you how to fight with just one arm?"  
  
"I don't need two good arms to play saxophone," Sue Ellen remarked. "That's all I care about."  
  
----  
  
"My name is Jean Stiles. You may remember me from such movies as 'Death Wore a Derby' and 'Chicken Fried Love'. Are your children doing poorly in science? Do you worry about their future in our technology-driven age? Well, worry no more. I'm here to tell you about a wonderful new program called Blinded by Science."  
  
Mr. Pryce-Jones watched the video presentation thoughtfully. "She does have screen presence," he commented. "I wonder why she didn't make it in Hollywood."  
  
"Well, talent isn't everything," said Muffy, who sat next to him in the media room at Uppity Downs.  
  
The scene on the video screen changed to one of a mother describing to her son the steps of the Blinded by Science program.  
  
"You say you filmed this yourself?" said Mr. Pryce-Jones.  
  
"Yes, I did," said Muffy proudly. "I've got the most high-end digital camcorder out there. I edited it, too."  
  
"Blinded by Science is based on the most natural method of teaching science," said Alan, who appeared on the screen holding a colorful box. "Sometimes the student asks a question and the teacher answers it, and sometimes it's the other way around. The method goes all the way back to the ancient Greek philosophers."  
  
"Blinded by Science is the most effective way to put your child on the road to an exciting and rewarding scientific career," said Beat, who was standing next to Alan in the video.  
  
After that Binky, Fern, and George appeared in turn, each smiling and saying, "Blinded by Science worked for me."  
  
"Those are friends of yours?" asked Mr. Pryce-Jones.  
  
"Yes," Muffy answered. "They haven't actually tried the program, but they will, and it will work for them. Even Binky."  
  
"I'd like to run some trials as soon as possible," said the teacher. "I think about one hundred children should be enough."  
  
Muffy's jaw dropped. "One...hundred..."  
  
"What, not ambitious enough for you? Very well, five hundred."  
  
(To be continued...) 


	9. The New Francine

By the time Monday rolled around, half a foot of snow had fallen on Elwood City. The kids at Lakewood Elementary could think of little else but the fun they would have after school let out.  
  
Shortly before the first period, a number of children including Arthur, Beat, Alan, Prunella, George, and Sue Ellen (who had already accumulated a few signatures on her cast) were gathered in the center court, talking about recent events.  
  
"Now that your parents are back, what happens to Carla?" Arthur asked Sue Ellen.  
  
"She's staying in Elwood City," Sue Ellen replied. "She's got a computer job."  
  
As they conversed, Francine entered the school and walked toward them. Within moments they all fell silent with shock at the sight of Francine's attire.  
  
Underneath her red coat she wore a long, light blue dress with a floral pattern. She wore black, high-heeled shoes, and most surprisingly of all, her fingernails were painted bright red.  
  
She stood before them and smiled vacuously. "What the..." Alan blurted out. "Are you feeling all right, Francine?"  
  
Beat could only shake her head sadly.  
  
Francine slowly pulled off her coat. "Well?" she said to the others. "What do you think of the new me?"  
  
"What's wrong with the old you?" Sue Ellen asked.  
  
"Nothing," Francine replied, turning from side to side to show off her dress. "I just woke up one morning and realized, since I'm a girl, I should start dressing like one."  
  
"We know you're a girl," said Arthur. "You don't have to prove it to us."  
  
"Hmm...it's not school picture day," Prunella observed. "So there must be a boy in Francine's life."  
  
"And it's not me," said George sadly.  
  
"No, there isn't a boy in my life," said Francine in a sultry voice. "Not yet, anyway." Giggling insincerely, she walked away from the group, making a clopping sound with her heels.  
  
The others watched her go in disbelief. "She's lost her mind," Beat muttered.  
  
"Weird," Arthur remarked. "She's never showed any interest in boys before."  
  
"She giggled," Alan noted. "I don't think I've ever heard her giggle."  
  
"I don't know how to explain this," said George, shrugging his shoulders. "Even with aliens."  
  
"Maybe they blasted her with a puberty gun," Sue Ellen suggested.  
  
Meanwhile, Francine's new look attracted the gaze of Binky and Rattles as she walked past the two boys.  
  
"Dude," said Rattles in a trance-like voice, "Francine looks hot."  
  
"Heh heh heh," said Binky.  
  
----  
  
Mr. Baker seemed more anxious and perturbed than usual to Alan, Prunella, and the other fifth-graders in his class. He rushed through the roll call, giving the students hardly enough time to acknowledge their presence.  
  
"Marina Messersmith is, sadly, not with us today," he announced. "She's in a special education class, relearning Braille with two blind six-year-old boys. There's still no medical explanation for her condition."  
  
He paused to allow the impact of the news to sink in. "Before we start today's history lesson," he continued, "I'd like to ask you a question. What if you could wish for anything you want, and have it come true?"  
  
Alan raised his hand. "That's scientifically impossible, Mr. Baker."  
  
The teacher raised a pudgy finger for dramatic effect. "Perhaps impossible to known science, Alan. However, I propose to you that there are those who walk incognito among us, who have powers that transcend known science."  
  
Prunella raised her hand. "So why don't they go to the Randi Institute and make a million dollars?"  
  
Mr. Baker's voice rose to a fevered pitch. "Because if they were to make themselves known, the entire world would covet their power. Only a few, like myself, are wise enough to detect their presence."  
  
"What are you talking about?" asked Floyd Walton.  
  
The hippo man's eyes bulged. "I'm talking about...UNICORNS!"  
  
All the students gasped in wonder and terror, except for Alan.  
  
"But, Mr. Baker," he pointed out, "unicorns are mythical animals."  
  
"Au contraire, my young lad!" the teacher retorted. "They are real. And I have reason to believe that a girl who attends this very school has a friend who is secretly...A UNICORN!"  
  
"Like, what's so special about unicorns?" asked Lucy.  
  
"I'm glad you asked," Mr. Baker replied. "Their horns have magical wishing powers. Capture one of them, and you can have anything in the world you want!"  
  
"Excuse me," said Toru, "but if you hunt unicorns for their horns, then they will become endangered, like the rhinoceros."  
  
"Exactly. Which is why they have kept themselves hidden from the world. But once I prove their existence to the scientific community, then their magical wishing powers will be analyzed, synthesized, and duplicated. Then everybody will have the same magical powers as...THE UNICORNS!"  
  
"I think you're crazy," said Alan bluntly.  
  
Mr. Baker pointed an accusing finger at him. "Detention for a week!"  
  
----  
  
When morning recess came around, Francine preferred to remain inside the school, as the snow lying on the playground might make her stockings wet. As she talked to George, reassuring him that her snubbing had been merely a misunderstanding, Beat approached her, wearing a stern expression.  
  
"I'd like a word with you," she said firmly.  
  
Francine looked a bit anxious. "Uh, okay, Beat. See you later, George."  
  
Unbeknownst to Francine and Beat, two pairs of curious eyes were monitoring them as they headed into the girls' washroom.  
  
"Now she's going in with Beat," Binky noted. "I guess Jenna wasn't spreading the news fast enough."  
  
"This should be good," said Rattles as he pushed the red button on his tape recorder.  
  
Once she had entered the girls' room with Francine, Beat looked into the stalls to make sure that nobody was present with them.  
  
Then she turned to Francine, her face confused and pained. "What's the meaning of this, Frankie?"  
  
"The meaning of what?" said Francine obliviously.  
  
"This!" Beat waved a hand at her. "The dress, the nails, the affectations. It's not you at all."  
  
Francine's face fell. "I know."  
  
"This is boring," said Binky. "They're talking about fashion."  
  
"Yeah, you're right." Rattles moved his hand toward the tape recorder, preparing to shut it off.  
  
"I want to be normal, Beat," said Francine, her voice quivering. "I don't want to be attracted to girls."  
  
Binky's jaw dropped halfway to China. "Whoa, whoa! Don't turn it off!" Rattles quickly pulled back his hand.  
  
"I've always been a tomboy," Francine went on. "I've never really tried to act like a girl. I've never tried to get a boy to like me."  
  
"You won't get a boy to like you by dressing like a silly goose," Beat admonished her.  
  
Francine looked down at her dress glumly. "Maybe you're right."  
  
"Your feelings for me frighten you, don't they?" Beat asked her.  
  
"Yes," Francine admitted.  
  
"Then give them up."  
  
"It's not that easy." Francine's eyes became misty. "I think about you all the time. I thought if I could get a boy to like me, and bring me flowers and candy and all that, then I would forget about you, but it's not working."  
  
Beat looked at her thoughtfully. "You're not happy," she observed. "You're not comfortable."  
  
"You bet I'm not," Francine replied. "These shoes are killing me."  
  
"If trying to attract boys makes you unhappy, then stop," Beat urged her. "Just be natural. Be yourself. Sooner or later you'll forget about me. Chances are you'll grow up and start liking boys, just like Catherine."  
  
"You think so?" asked Francine hopefully.  
  
"Well, one can never tell for sure."  
  
Moments later Binky and Rattles, sporting wicked grins, watched as the two girls exited the washroom.  
  
"Oh, man," gloated Rattles, "people will pay good money to listen to this tape."  
  
"Money?" Binky chuckled. "I'm feeling generous. I'm gonna tell everybody for free."  
  
(To be continued...) 


	10. Fists of Fury

Still clad in her floral dress and high heels, Francine set down her lunch tray and seated herself next to Arthur and Alan. On the opposite side of the table, Fern was occupied writing several stanzas of poetry on Sue Ellen's cast.  
  
When the two girls looked up at Francine, they started to giggle hysterically.  
  
Francine glowered at them. "What's so funny?" she demanded. "Is it the dress?"  
  
"No, we like your dress," said Fern between giggles.  
  
"It's...it's..." Sue Ellen collapsed in laughter before she could finish her sentence.  
  
"Don't forget to breathe," quipped Francine as she took a bite of her turkey sandwich.  
  
Glancing to each side, she noticed that Arthur and Alan were suppressing snickers of their own. "Okay, let me in on the joke," she said impatiently.  
  
"You know, Arthur," said Alan, "it's never dawned on me until now what a lovely young woman Francine is."  
  
Fern and Sue Ellen fell into paroxysms of laughter.  
  
"You're right, Alan," said Arthur facetiously. "Up until she started wearing a dress, I didn't even realize she was a girl."  
  
"I'd ask her on a date," joked Alan, "but I don't think I'm her type."  
  
Furious, Francine jumped to her feet and carried her tray across the cafeteria to an unoccupied table, where she finished her lunch in solitude.  
  
As she wandered out of the lunchroom, Van rolled up alongside her in his motorized wheelchair. "Hey, Francine."  
  
"Hi," she said bitterly.  
  
Van glanced around to make sure nobody was within earshot. "There's a nasty rumor about you going around," he half-whispered.  
  
"What is it this time?" asked Francine indifferently.  
  
"They say you're attracted to girls," Van continued. "Of course, I don't believe it for..."  
  
The duck boy stopped in mid-sentence when he beheld Francine's horrified expression. "What...how...only Beat and I..." she stuttered.  
  
"It's not true...is it?" asked Van curiously.  
  
"Who started it?" The enraged Francine grabbed the armrests of Van's wheelchair and shook it. "WHO STARTED IT?"  
  
"It...uh...it...was...Binky...who told me..." stammered the frightened boy.  
  
Her face twisted with fury, Francine kicked off her high-heeled shoes and marched away from Van in her stocking feet.  
  
Moments later, she saw Binky standing in the hallway next to George, holding a casual conversation.  
  
"You really thought she had a crush on you?" Binky chuckled. "You tried to give her roses? Oh, you poor kid."  
  
He and George turned their heads and were surprised to see Francine charging toward them, looking as if steam would start pouring from her ears at any second.  
  
"Like, oops..." Binky mumbled.  
  
Without breaking her stride, Francine walked directly up to Binky...and plunged her right fist into his left eye.  
  
It was the punch heard around the elementary school.  
  
The impact knocked Binky onto his back. He sat up, rubbing his injured eye, as the nearby kids began to form a throng around him, Francine, and George.  
  
"Get up!" roared Francine, holding out her clenched fists. "I'm gonna make you pay, Binky Barnes!"  
  
Binky stammered with fear. "It...it was Rattles' idea...he taped you...put a microphone in the girls' room..."  
  
Francine paused only a second before turning and pushing her way through the crowd of spectators.  
  
George grabbed Binky's hand and pulled him to his feet as he continued to rub his eye. Then a terrifying prospect entered Binky's thick skull.  
  
"Omigosh!" he cried. "Rattles will slaughter her!"  
  
It took only a few moments for Francine to locate Rattles, who was standing with Molly and a few other Tough Customers in a spot at the edge of the playground. Numerous children trailed her, hoping to witness a spectacular brawl.  
  
Rattles was pleasantly amused at the sight of an angry, shoeless girl with painted nails and a floral-pattern dress coming toward him. "Oh, is this a special occasion?" he said mockingly. "Give me a minute to change into my tuxedo."  
  
"You taped me!" cried Francine. "You invaded my privacy!"  
  
Rattles stuck out his chest defiantly as the other Tough Customers stepped away to a safe distance. "Come on, girl. Show us how dainty and feminine you can be."  
  
His taunts had the desired effect on Francine, infuriating her even further. She hurled a fist at his nose, but he knocked it aside with his arm. She aimed at his stomach with her other fist, but Rattles blocked it as easily as the first one.  
  
Smiling condescendingly, Rattles let his own fist fly, striking Francine squarely in the left eye.  
  
The surrounding kids gasped as if they had never watched someone hit a girl before.  
  
Dazed, Francine struggled to stay on her feet and to keep her remaining good eye open.  
  
When Rattles saw that his opponent wasn't moving, he reared back his fist again. "Say good night, Gracie," he quipped.  
  
Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head just in time to see the black-eyed Binky's fist hurtling toward him...  
  
----  
  
In the three chairs placed before Principal Haney's desk sat Binky, Francine, and Rattles, each one of them with a painful-looking black eye.  
  
"Two weeks' detention for you, Miss Frensky," Mr. Haney announced.  
  
"Hey, why does she get off so easy?" Rattles protested.  
  
"Because she's a first-time offender," the principal explained. "As for Mr. Ratola and Mr. Barnes, six weeks' detention."  
  
"What?" exclaimed Binky and Rattles in unison.  
  
"Two weeks for fighting," Mr. Haney clarified, "and four weeks for secretly taping conversations in the girls' room."  
  
The miserable Binky put his hands over his eyes, only to quickly remove them when he put pressure on the tender tissues surrounding his left eye.  
  
Rattles, meanwhile, inexplicably started to grin.  
  
"What are you so happy about?" Binky asked sharply.  
  
"Dude," said Rattles proudly, "I just set a new record!"  
  
(To be continued...) 


	11. Hail the Conquered Heroine

The unhappy, barefooted Francine, her floral dress now accessorized by an ice pack over her left eye, shuffled hesitantly into the classroom. When the other kids saw her, they erupted into cheers.  
  
"You da man, Francine!" shouted George. "You da man!"  
  
"You sure showed that creep Rattles," said Arthur.  
  
"What do you mean, I showed him?" asked Francine as she sat in a desk between Arthur and Sue Ellen. "He mopped up the playground with my butt."  
  
"It's good to know someone's standing up to the bullies while I'm out of the action," Sue Ellen remarked.  
  
"That was really something, Francine," said Fern, who was seated two desks behind her. "You proved you're a woman AND a man in the same day."  
  
"Francine! Francine!" the kids began to chant.  
  
As Mr. Wald held up his hand to restore order, Francine shot an angry look at Binky, who sat at the other end of the room. Like her, he wore a gloomy scowl and an ice pack over his left eye.  
  
----  
  
During afternoon recess, Francine returned to the spot where she had kicked off her high-heeled shoes, and found them still lying where she had left them. Picking them up and starting toward her locker, she chanced to encounter Beat, who started to walk alongside her.  
  
"Well, your secret's out," Beat remarked. "Now what?"  
  
"I don't know," muttered Francine as she shifted the ice pack over her eye. "Everybody's forgotten about it. All they can talk about is my fight with Rattles."  
  
The two girls remained silent until they arrived at Francine's locker.  
  
Opening the locker door, Francine inserted the shoes and closed it again. "I guess when you're my age, nobody cares that much," she mused. "As long as I keep it to myself."  
  
"Yes, Frankie," said Beat comfortingly. "By tomorrow, all this will be forgotten."  
  
Francine groaned. "I painted my nails, I put on a stupid dress, I got a black eye and two weeks' detention, and for what?"  
  
"A valuable lesson," said Beat.  
  
"Right." Francine turned around and rested her back against the lockers. "We could just end the story here, you know."  
  
Beat shook her head. "Oh, we can't do that. What about the mysterious and powerful enemy who wants to destroy Christmas?"  
  
"Oh, yeah. I forgot."  
  
"And it's taking us a long time to get there, innit?" Beat remarked.  
  
"Yeah," said Francine, "but something will happen at the end of this chapter."  
  
Beat thought for a second. "Maybe I should stay away from your for a while," she suggested. "At least long enough for you to get rid of your feelings."  
  
"Forget about it," said Francine, sounding more assured. "The only thing I'm attracted to right now is a mattress."  
  
----  
  
As Fern sat on a chair in her bedroom, reading from The Collected Poems of Wilfred Owen, she heard the doorbell ring. "Fern, get that, please," came her mother's voice from the laundry room.  
  
When she opened the door, she was surprised and delighted to see her new friend Greta standing on the welcome mat. "Hi, Greta," she said, smiling. "Come in."  
  
"I'm sorry, I can't," said Greta regretfully. "I only came here to say goodbye."  
  
Fern's face fell. "What? Goodbye?"  
  
"I can't come here anymore," Greta continued. "But we can still meet each other online."  
  
"But why?" asked Fern. "Is it your parents?"  
  
"It's not my parents." Greta lowered her voice. "It's Mr. Baker."  
  
Fern eyed her curiously.  
  
"I don't trust him," Greta went on. "I think he may try to hurt me. He may try to force you to tell him where I am. Don't turn your back on him, Fern. I'll see you in the chat room. Goodbye."  
  
Speechless and confused, Fern watched as Greta turned and walked hurriedly down the street away from her house.  
  
----  
  
Seated on a dining chair, dressed in her regular clothes, and holding a beefsteak over her damaged eye, Francine sweated under the accusing glares of her parents and older sister.  
  
"It was very foolish of you to pick a fight with Rattles," said Mrs. Frensky sternly. "He's a boy, he's bigger than you, and he's a good fighter. What did you expect to happen?"  
  
"I don't know, Mom," said Francine in an anxious voice. "I was just too angry to think."  
  
"What were you angry about?" asked Mr. Frensky.  
  
"Rattles and Binky put a microphone in the girls' room," Francine replied. "They recorded me talking to Beat, and then they told everybody what we said."  
  
"And what did you say?"  
  
Francine lowered her head in shame. "Catherine, remember when you were my age and you liked that girl?"  
  
"Yes," said her sister.  
  
"Well..." Francine's voice started to break. "I've got the same problem."  
  
Catherine began to stammer. "You mean...you and Beat..."  
  
"We haven't done anything," Francine went on. "We just have a crush on each other, that's all. I've been trying to do something about it."  
  
"That's what this is all about?" said the surprised Catherine. "What's the big deal? You'll get over it, Frankie. I did."  
  
"But what if I don't?" Francine's eyes filled with tears. "Some people stay this way. Like uncle Max."  
  
"We accept uncle Max the way he is," said her mother.  
  
"You're too young to be worried about this," said Catherine. "Just forget about it. I'm normal. You're my sister. You'll be normal, too."  
  
Francine wiped the tears from her right eye with her hand.  
  
"I wonder what will happen to Beat," she mused. "I don't think she cares if she's normal or not."  
  
"Well, the Simons are more liberal than we are," Mr. Frensky remarked.  
  
"Dinner's almost ready," said Mrs. Frensky. "Let's put this behind us and move on."  
  
"I'm not hungry," said Francine. "I think I'll just take a nap."  
  
"Have it your way," her mother responded.  
  
Francine made her way to the bedroom, carefully clutching the steak to her left eye. She took off her shoes and stockings, and climbed into her bed, sighing drearily.  
  
The inviting smell of split pea soup wafted through the open door, but she ignored it. After about ten minutes she felt herself becoming drowsy.  
  
Suddenly she heard a soft, soothing male voice in her mind.  
  
"I know where Nemo is."  
  
She glanced around frantically. "Who's there?"  
  
----  
  
At roughly the same time, Pal was wandering and sniffing about the neighborhood, his collar attached to a leash with Arthur on the other end. As he followed his dog along the sidewalk, the parka-clad Arthur curiously examined the lost pet posters on each phone pole. Neighboring the pictures of Nemo that he had helped to place were photos of various large dogs, including a pit bull, a greyhound, a German shepherd, and a Doberman Pinscher.  
  
As Arthur wondered why his dog hadn't fallen victim to the rash of pet disappearances, Pal suddenly began to bark, howl, and tug vigorously on his leash. "What is it, boy?" Arthur asked.  
  
He started to walk forward in the direction that Pal was lurching, but soon found himself running. The excited dog led him through several city blocks and to the end of the pavement, which bordered the forested area surrounding the creek.  
  
"We shouldn't go this way," said Arthur, but Pal persistently yanked on his leash. The boy reluctantly followed his dog a little way into the woods...  
  
...where he was suddenly taken aback to see Francine, standing in the trees with a small, long-haired dog in her arms.  
  
Arthur speechlessly walked closer to the girl. Upon closer analysis, he noted that the dog was a Shih Tzu, and had a canine wheelchair strapped to his hind quarters. He also observed that Pal had fallen completely silent, and ceased to tug on his leash.  
  
"I think he's one of the lost dogs, Arthur," said Francine, whose black left eye was exposed to the cold winter air.  
  
"I don't know, Francine," Arthur replied. "I didn't see his picture anywhere." He reached for the dog's collar and grasped the tag in his fingers. On it were inscribed the words, THE PROFESSOR, followed by a phone number with area code.  
  
Then Pal began to sniff the air and growl angrily.  
  
"Let's go to your place and call the number on the tag," Francine suggested.  
  
The two children left the forest and were soon walking along the paved street, Arthur holding Pal with his leash and Francine cradling the Shih Tzu in her arms.  
  
They had only gone a block when a fierce-looking Doberman Pinscher leaped out from behind a fence, growling viciously. Arthur quickly bent over and picked up the frightened, whining Pal, then he and Francine backed away slowly.  
  
The Doberman matched their movements, growling and drooling.  
  
Gripping the Shih Tzu in one arm, Francine reached down and picked up some rocks that lay near the sidewalk. She hurled them at the Doberman, causing the animal to yelp in pain.  
  
"Run!" she cried. She and Arthur turned on their heels and sped away with all their strength. The Doberman, battered but not bowed, pursued them with haste.  
  
Arthur and Francine had run half a block when they saw an angry-looking German shepherd charging toward them. Still clutching the small dogs, they turned down a side street and ran as fast as their legs would carry them. As Arthur turned his head to look at the two barking, panting beasts tailing him, it dawned on him that they looked very similar to dogs whose pictures he had seen on the phone poles...  
  
A moment later, Francine saw two brutish-looking pit bull terriers racing in their direction. The only available side street was a cul-de-sac, so she and Arthur turned into it and continued their desperate flight.  
  
They came to the house at the end of the cul-de-sac, and found that a tall wooden fence blocked their escape. Before they had a chance to look for another escape route, the pursuing dogs had surrounded them on all sides. Terrified, they noted that three more large, vicious dogs had appeared, swelling the canine ranks to seven.  
  
There was no way out. The growling, snapping dogs slowly but inexorably converged on Arthur and Francine from all directions...  
  
(To be continued...) 


	12. You Will Believe

It seemed like the end. Their backs against the tall wooden fence, Arthur (who held Pal in his arms) and Francine (who held the mysterious Shih Tzu) watched hopelessly as the seven large, angry dogs slowly approached them with murder in their eyes. 

Unbeknownst to them, a grim conversation was taking place between the Shih Tzu and the female Doberman, who was the lead dog in the pack.

"Surrender or die!" the Doberman barked.

"Surrender is not an option," the Shih Tzu responded without opening its mouth, "and you are not prepared to kill me."

"Not you, perhaps," said the Doberman, "but the lives of the human children mean nothing to me."

For a moment the menacing dogs ceased from their growling and snapping, as if waiting for a command from a higher power.

Then, all at once, they charged at Arthur and Francine...

...only to stop suddenly.

Arthur looked down and saw that the sharp teeth and powerful jaws of the Doberman were only inches from his chest. He and Francine heard a strange noise that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once...an almost ethereal sound of barking and howling. The dogs glanced around, confused and fearful.

A few seconds later, Arthur and Francine were able to sense the direction from which the unusual sound was emanating. Looking along the cul-de-sac, they saw a white horse girl standing at the corner.

It was Greta von Horstein.

The surreal barking sounds were coming from her mouth. She signaled for the two kids to approach her. They did so, carefully stepping between the dazed and frightened dogs, who made no attempt to hinder them.

Greta ceased from her barking. "Hurry!" she called to Arthur and Francine.

And hurry they did. Clutching their dogs, they ran alongside Greta until they were several blocks away from the cul-de-sac.

Francine turned and saw with relief that the dogs who had threatened them were nowhere to be seen.

"I don't think they'll find us," said Greta. Turning to Francine, she asked, "What happened to your eye?"

"Never mind that," said Francine sharply. "What did you do? How did you save us from those dogs?"

Then both Arthur and Francine heard a gentle male voice in their minds. Francine recognized it as the same voice that had led her to the location of the Shih Tzu.

"She's a unicorn," said the voice. "She can communicate with animals."

Arthur froze with panic at the sound of the voice. Francine turned her head in all directions. "Who are you?" she asked. "Where are you?"

"I'm in your arms, silly girl," the voice said again.

"Who are you talking to?" Greta asked Francine.

"What?" Francine looked at her incredulously. "Don't you hear him?"

"My telepathy has no effect on unicorns," said the mysterious voice.

"Wh-what's going on?" Arthur stammered.

Francine gazed down at the Shih Tzu that she held. "It's the dog. He's talking to us with his brain."

"I am The Professor," came the dog's voice. "And you are all in grave danger."

----

About ten minutes later, Arthur, Francine, and Greta passed through the front door of the Read home, followed closely behind by Pal and the Shih Tzu known as The Professor.

Arthur's parents were busily setting the table with a dessert of pineapple upside-down cake. "You're late," said Mrs. Read when she saw the children. "And who's this with you?"

"I'm Greta von Horstein," Greta announced. "I'm a friend of Fern, who's a friend of Arthur."

Arthur gestured at the Shih Tzu. "And this is...a dog who followed us home. I think he's lost."

Mrs. Read bent down and looked at the dog's tag. "The Professor," she mused. "He must know a lot of tricks."

As she went to the phone to attempt to reach the Shih Tzu's owner, D.W. raced into the kitchen, excited at the sight of an unfamiliar dog.

"Oh, it's so cute!" she cried with delight. "And it has wheels! Can we keep it, Dad?"

"No, we can't," Mr. Read replied. "It belongs to someone else."

Meanwhile, Mrs. Read had dialed the number from The Professor's tag, and was awaiting a response.

It finally came. "You have reached the X-Pets messaging service. At the sound of the beep, you will forget why you called, and hang up."

There was a faint beep, and Mrs. Read's eyes suddenly glazed over. She slowly replaced the receiver on its hook.

Arthur led Francine, Greta, and the two dogs up the stairs to his bedroom as his mother shuffled back into the kitchen, looking rather dazed.

"Well?" Mr. Read asked her. "Was the dog's owner there?"

"What dog?" she responded obliviously.

In Arthur's bedroom, the three kids sat on the edge of his bed while Pal lay down on the floor and The Professor wandered about, sniffing. The wheels of his chair made a slight clicking sound as he propelled himself about using his front legs.

"He must have been in an accident," Greta remarked.

At that moment there was a pounding on the bedroom door. "Arthur, can I play with the dog that has wheels?" came D.W.'s muffled voice.

"Not now, D.W.," Arthur answered. The pounding died down.

Francine glanced around at the gathered children and dogs. "Now let me get this straight," she said slowly. "The Professor is a talking telepathic dog, Greta here is a unicorn, and we're all in grave danger."

Greta looked astonished and terrified. "What? How did you know?"

"Oh, right," Francine continued. "You can't hear The Professor's voice because you're a unicorn."

Greta's voice became frantic. "You mustn't tell anyone! Please!"

"No one would believe us anyway," said Francine. "Besides, you can't be a unicorn. You don't have a horn."

As Arthur and Francine watched in amazement, a blinding golden light suddenly appeared about an inch above Greta's eyes. The light seemed to twist around itself repeatedly, and within moments it had taken a definite form.

There was now a glowing, gold-colored, spiral-shaped horn protruding from Greta's forehead.

"So you are a unicorn," said Arthur in a hushed voice. "But why do you keep it hidden?"

"There are many who would kill to possess the horn of a unicorn," Greta replied. "It has magical powers."

"Magic, schmagic," Francine grumbled. "Okay, I'll admit you have a horn, but I draw the line at believing in magical powers."

"Believe whatever you want," said the unruffled Greta, "but there are those who do believe in unicorn magic, and will stop at nothing to obtain it for themselves. I believe one of them teaches at your school."

"What?" said Francine with alarm. "Who?"

"The theatre director," Greta answered. "Mr. Baker."

"Wait...a...minute," said Arthur. "Alan just got detention for telling Mr. Baker he was crazy for believing in unicorns."

"Then he does know!" Greta seemed ready to panic. "I can't stay here. I must leave!"

"What are you afraid of?" Arthur asked her. "Can't you just use your magic if he tries to steal your horn?"

"It's not that simple." Greta's horn seemed to be glowing even brighter than it was when it first appeared. "Unicorn magic is governed by innumerable rules and regulations. I'm 212 years old, and I still haven't learned them all."

Francine gaped. "You're_how_ old?"

"Unicorns age more slowly than humans," Greta explained. "My parents are more than a thousand years old."

Arthur and Francine suddenly heard The Professor's voice. "Convince the unicorn to stay if you can. Her ability to talk to animals and her resistance to telepathy may prove useful in our fight against Rascal."

"Who's Rascal?" asked Arthur.

"I'll tell you," said The Professor. "Better yet, I'll let Pal tell you."

Arthur and Francine looked at Pal, who was now sitting and staring at them as if preparing to give a lecture. A moment later, an unfamiliar male voice with a slight English accent sounded in Arthur's and Francine's heads.

"Before I begin, I just want to say, I liked the old dog food better. Also, Kate's diapers are horribly smelly. Keep in mind that I'm a dog, so my sense of smell is much keener than yours..."

"Enough," said The Professor. "I have a better idea. I'll use my telepathy to put the words in Arthur's mind, so he can say them. That way, you won't have to repeat what I say so that the unicorn can hear."

"Will it hurt?" asked Arthur.

"Not a bit."

Arthur felt as if words were pouring into his brain...and he was compelled to repeat them. It came as naturally as if he were choosing the words himself.

"The X-Pets are a team of mutant-powered dogs whose goal is harmony between humans and animals," Arthur began. "There are four members. Myself, The Professor, a telepath; Jean Greyhound, a telekinetic; Wolfie, who has extendible claws that can shred steel; and Rascal, who can absorb the memories and powers of both humans and animals through her tongue. Are you with me?"

"Uh, I think so," said Francine, looking back and forth between Arthur and The Professor. "So...the X-Pets are talking dogs?"

"In a sense," Arthur continued. "They can talk to each other, but I, The Professor, am the only animal in existence with the knowledge to communicate with humans."

"But Pal just talked to us," said Francine.

"Only because I translated. Now, here comes the part that you'll find hard to believe, Francine. Your cat, Nemo, is also a mutant. He is known as Magnemo, because he can create magnetic fields and control metal. His goal is feline supremacy, and we have fought against him many times."

"What?" Francine shook her head unbelievingly. "My cat's a supervillain?"

"Correct," said Arthur.

"You said you know where he is," said Francine. "Where is he?"

"I'll get to that. Now, as I mentioned, Rascal has the ability to absorb memories from humans and animals, and if a human or animal has special powers, she can absorb those as well."

"Can she absorb unicorn magic?" asked Greta.

"No," replied Arthur. "Unicorn magic is in a realm beyond the reach of our powers. Rascal's powers are in her tongue. If she licks someone once, then she gains that person's memories and powers temporarily, and the person isn't affected. However, if she licks someone for a prolonged period of time, then the person's memories and powers can be permanently transferred to her."

Francine gasped. "That's what happened to Marina!"

"Exactly," Arthur continued. "On the night before the incident involving your friend Marina, I made contact with her in hopes that she would allow me to teach her how to use her powers for the benefit of mankind. Although reluctant at first, she eventually sought me out in the place I had shown her, where I was waiting for her with the other X-Pets. However, Rascal had a secret agenda. She attacked Marina and started to lick her repeatedly. When I ordered her to stop, she used the powers she had absorbed from Marina to control Jean and Wolfie, turning them against me. I was barely able to escape, and I've been in hiding ever since."

"Those dogs who attacked us," said Francine. "Were they being controlled by Rascal?"

"Yes," said Arthur. "Rascal's powers of mind control are now superior to my own. However, I still have one advantage."

"What's that?"

"As I said before, I am the only animal with the knowledge to communicate with humans. Rascal can absorb human knowledge through her tongue, and repeat it back, but ultimately, it's all gibberish to her. Understanding human thought patterns is a very complex art, of which I alone am master. If Rascal were to somehow gain access to my knowledge, then she would have the power to control not only animals, but humans. She would become invincible."

"So why didn't she lick you when she had the chance?" asked Greta.

"My mind is immune to Rascal's absorption power," Arthur went on. "I have erected a protective barrier around it, similar to the one that I have been erecting around Pal's mind as we have been speaking. This will prevent Rascal from controlling Pal and using him as a spy."

"What does all of this have to do with us?" Francine asked.

"Rascal hasn't killed me yet because she wants my knowledge," Arthur replied. "And she can only obtain it if I give it up willingly. She believes that she can persuade me to submit by threatening widespread destruction. She has the powers of the other X-Pets, as well as Magnemo, at her disposal. It was they who broke into the Elwood Animal Shelter and released all the animals so that they could serve as Rascal's agents. And that's only a small taste of what their combined powers can do."

"And what's a big taste?" asked Greta.

"Rascal has already dictated her terms to me," said Arthur. "Unless I surrender my knowledge to her, which I cannot and will not do, she has sworn to completely destroy Elwood City...at 12 a.m. on the day you call Christmas."

(To be continued...)


	13. Just a Girl

Later that evening, Francine returned to her apartment, still sporting a shiner on her left eye. Pulling off her warm red coat, she draped it on the coat rack.  
  
"Where did you go?" asked Catherine, who was engrossed in a TV show.  
  
"To Arthur's," Francine mumbled on the way to her bedroom. "He has a new dog."  
  
As soon as she reached her bed, she yanked off her shoes and socks and climbed in. "Just one night of uninterrupted sleep with no telepathic voices is all I'm asking," she said to herself as she lay silent and still.  
  
She mused upon the strange and wondrous things she had witnessed earlier in the evening. Unicorns...telepathic dogs...the impending destruction of Elwood City...and to top it all off, her cat was evil.  
  
"Maybe it was all a dream," she muttered silently.  
  
After what seemed like only a few minutes, she was awakened by a voice. This time it wasn't a telepathic communication, but rather, the voice of her sister Catherine.  
  
"Aren't you gonna change into your pajamas, Frankie?"  
  
Francine slowly opened her eyes to see Catherine sitting on the other side of the room, clad in her sleepwear.  
  
"Nah," Francine grunted.  
  
"Have you brushed your teeth?"  
  
"They won't fall out."  
  
Catherine shrugged, rolled into her bed, and pulled a checkerboard quilt over her body.  
  
Francine idly cast her eyes around the room. It was mostly dark; the only remaining visibility was provided by the night light. She saw, lying on the dresser, Catherine's wallet and keychain. Attached to said keychain was an oval-shaped, silver-metallic tube with a nozzle and button on top.  
  
"Hey, Cath," she said quietly.  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
Francine took a deep breath. "It doesn't seem fair, does it?"  
  
"What?" Catherine restlessly turned on her side.  
  
"Having to carry around a pepper spray to protect yourself from boys."  
  
"Not all boys," Catherine replied. "Only some boys."  
  
Francine fell silent, deep in thought.  
  
"There are so many things girls can't do because they're not as big or strong as boys," she commented. "Like professional football. I don't think it's fair."  
  
"Life's not fair, Frankie," Catherine mumbled. "Now go to sleep."  
  
The room became quiet again. However, Francine had one final remark to make.  
  
"I'll bet I could have beat Rattles if I was a boy."  
  
"Go to sleep, girl," Catherine grumbled.  
  
----  
  
The next day, the school was still abuzz with the now-legendary story of Francine's courageous stand against the detested Rattles. Wherever she went, the other kids gave her high-fives and complemented her on the lovely shade of her now-turquoise black eye. No one made mention of her overheard conversation with Beat in the girls' room...not even Beat herself.  
  
Fern, in the meantime, found herself constantly badgered by Mr. Baker, who asked her question after question about her absent friend Greta von Horstein.  
  
"If you lead me to Greta," the teacher proposed, "I'll split the unicorn magic with you, fifty-fifty."  
  
"You can't split three wishes fifty-fifty," Fern shot back. "And Greta's not a unicorn. Now stop bothering me."  
  
By the time afternoon recess came around, however, the kids in Mr. Wald's class had forgotten about black eyes and unicorns. It was as if a shadow had fallen over them. Along with Alan and Prunella, they all waited anxiously to hear the results of Sue Ellen's blood test, which she and her parents had gone to the hospital to obtain.  
  
As the children took their seats in Mr. Wald's fourth-grade classroom, they talked to each other about the last time they had seen Sue Ellen, and wondered if she would come to class at all.  
  
Shortly Mr. Wald called the class to order, and she had not yet arrived. The teacher's expression was as somber as those of the kids. "Sue Ellen will not be joining us at school for the rest of the day," he announced.  
  
Then he proceeded to write three large letters on the board: HIV.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	14. A Bigger Taste

About an hour after school, all of Sue Ellen's friends trudged through the newly fallen snow in the direction of her house. As they arrived, they saw that Muffy's limousine was parked at the curb outside, with the dutiful Bailey in the driver's seat reading another classic novel.

Inside the house, Muffy was offering Sue Ellen her best wishes.

"Just because I have the virus doesn't mean I'll get the disease," said Sue Ellen, whose cast was now peppered with signatures. "There are drugs to control it. They're expensive, but there's a good chance I'll have a normal lifespan."

"Well, if paying for the drugs is the only hard part," said Muffy, "then don't worry about it. The Crosswires are always here for you."

Momentarily the door opened, and Arthur, Francine, and Alan entered.

Sue Ellen waved at Arthur. "Hey, Arthur. No more kissing, okay?"

"Oh, but I want to!" Arthur whined.

"So what happens now?" asked Francine as she and Alan sat down next to Sue Ellen. "Can you parents afford all the drugs and treatments?"

"My dad works for the government," said Sue Ellen chirpily. "He's got good health insurance."

She looked at Alan, whose face barely concealed his pain and shock at this new development.

"Smile, Alan," Sue Ellen urged him. "There's nothing to frown about. You of all people should know that medical science will soon find a cure."

The door opened again and more kids filed in, including Prunella, Fern, Beat, and George.

"How was your detention today?" Fern asked Francine.

"Thrilling," Francine replied sarcastically. "There's nothing like sitting for half an hour with nothing to do but glower at Binky and Rattles and watch them glower back."

"So what caused it?" Prunella asked Sue Ellen. "Was it the blood transfusion at the hospital in Africa?"

"I don't know. It's the first time I've ever been tested for HIV. But why does it matter anyway?"

"I think it matters that you know who to sue," said Muffy haughtily.

Shortly Mrs. Armstrong came into the living room, carrying a tray of hors d'oeuvres. "Who wants shrimp puffs?" she called out.

The kids leaped eagerly from their seats and helped themselves to the snacks...except for Alan, who glumly and motionlessly watched the feeding frenzy.

Grasping shrimp puffs and napkins, the children went back to their seats.

"These are really good," said George with his mouth full.

"I'll just die if I don't get this recipe," said Muffy.

Sue Ellen's mother waved the tray in front of Alan. "None for you?"

"No thank you, Mrs. Armstrong," Alan replied. "I'm not hungry right now."

"Cheer up, Brain," said Beat, smiling. "Sue Ellen's the sickie, not you."

Having heard this, Alan abruptly rose from his chair. "Excuse me," he said, and quickly started toward the front door. Sue Ellen and Francine followed him, wearing expressions of concern.

When they caught up to him on the porch, they saw that he was clenching his fists, apparently struggling not to cry.

"What's the matter?" asked Francine. "You can talk to us about it."

"I can't," said Alan mournfully. "As much as I want to, I can't."

"Please." Sue Ellen grabbed his hand. "We're your friends."

"Go back inside," Alan told her sternly. "Now."

As Sue Ellen hesitantly stepped back into the house and closed the door, Francine gazed into Alan's misty eyes.

"She's not going to make it," he uttered.

"What?" Francine eyed him incredulously.

"I've seen the future," Alan went on.

"Now you're talking like Prunella," Francine remarked.

Alan's voice rose in pitch. "She's going to die, Francine. I can't save her. I dismantled the time tricycle."

Francine stared at him wordlessly for a second.

"All right," she finally said, "let's suppose you really did travel into the future. I've seen all kinds of weird things lately, so for all I know, you're telling the truth."

Alan, who had left his coat inside the house, felt himself shivering from the cold. "I can't tell you everything," he told Francine. "I shouldn't even have told you this."

"Don't give up hope," said Francine earnestly.

"There is no hope!" Alan snapped. "It's going to happen. It's already happened. You told me about it yourself when you were eighteen years old."

After several more speechless seconds, Francine turned and went into the house. Alan, still shivering, watched as the door closed.

----

Several weeks passed, and several more feet of snow fell on Elwood City. With a week left before Christmas, Marina remained in her childlike state, Sue Ellen had settled into a routine of taking HIV drugs, Muffy and Mrs. Stiles were performing trial after trial of the Blinded by Science program, and Binky and Rattles still had more detention to serve. ("Dude, Christmas in detention!" Rattles kept saying.)

On a Saturday afternoon, Arthur and D.W. were wandering around the Sneers department store with their mother, eagerly examining the toys and gifts.

"Mom, look!" cried D.W., pointing at a shelf covered with stuffed antelope toys. "It's Arnold the Antelope! Can I get one, please?"

"No, D.W.," said Mrs. Read. "If Santa brings you one, then you'll have two of them, and every time you get two of the same toy, you break one of them."

Undaunted, D.W. grabbed one of the Arnold toys from the shelf and started squeezing it all over. Cheeky recorded messages emanated from the toy, such as, "My name is Arnold. Will you be my friend?", "Don't miss my show on PBS", and "Stop touching me there."

Arthur took advantage of D.W.'s distraction to ask his mother a serious question. "Mom, there isn't really a Santa Claus, is there?"

"No, Arthur," said Mrs. Read somberly. "If you're naughty, you answer to me."

As D.W. replaced the toy on the shelf and rejoined her family, Arthur suddenly heard a familiar voice. He looked around, but quickly realized that the voice wasn't coming from anywhere inside the store.

"Get out of the store, quickly!" it said urgently. Arthur recognized the voice as that of The Professor.

To his surprise, D.W. and his mother were also glancing around in confusion...as were the store clerks and patrons.

"Mom, do you hear it, too?" Arthur asked anxiously.

"Yes," said Mrs. Read. "Where's it coming from? The speakers?"

"It's a ghost!" exclaimed D.W. in delight.

The voice repeated its warning. "Get out of the store, now!"

Alarmed, the customers and store employees started to make their way to the exits. As Mrs. Read led her two children toward the nearest exit, she heard a loud, creaking noise...as if a girder were being bent.

The floor suddenly seemed to leap upward underneath their feet. Now panicked, Mrs. Read wrapped her arms around Arthur and D.W. and dashed for the exit.

She was soon surrounded by dozens of frightened people who had but one goal in their minds...get out of the store.

The creaking, bending sounds intensified. The vibrations in the floor became stronger. Chunks of plaster began to fall from the ceiling.

"Mom, it's an earthquake!" Arthur cried in fear.

"Elwood City has never had an earthquake!" his mother shot back.

Seconds later, the relieved Reads found themselves on the sidewalk in front of the Sneers store, in the midst of a large crowd that extended into the street. They turned and witnessed to their surprise and horror that the store was shaking like a bowl full of jelly...and the surrounding buildings were not.

Then the holiday shopping mob was greeted by a deafening roar. Terrified, the crowds poured into the street, forcing drivers to slam on their brakes.

Arthur and D.W. couldn't believe what they were seeing and hearing. The steel girders of the structure made screeching noises as they rubbed against the concrete foundation. Huge pieces of stone and concrete, ripped out of the ground, tumbled over the sidewalk where shoppers had been standing only seconds before.

The entire department store was slowly but surely rising into the air...

(To be continued...)


	15. The Raid

The anxious Mr. Read, holding Kate in his arms, greeted his wife and other children as they came into the house. "Thank goodness," he said with relief. "When I heard what happened to the Sneers store, I couldn't believe it."  
  
"We were inside when it started," Mrs. Read told him. "A voice told everybody to get out of the store."  
  
As the entire Read family rushed to the TV to watch the ongoing broadcast of the bizarre event, Pal and The Professor followed after them.  
  
"I had no idea Nemo was that powerful," Pal remarked.  
  
"If I hadn't tracked his movements, hundreds of people might have died," replied The Professor telepathically. "Rascal put him up to it. She's trying to bully me into submission."  
  
On the TV screen, the news camera showed a police line surrounding the vast empty hole where the Sneers department store had once stood. "Witnesses claim that the store floated into the sky, then flew over the city and fell into the ocean," said the newscaster. "The Coast Guard is investigating the wreckage. So far no casualties have been found. Authorities have not ruled out the possibility of terrorism..."  
  
"That's crazy," Mrs. Read commented. "Even terrorists can't make a whole building just float away."  
  
"Unless they have some kind of anti-gravity weapon," Mr. Read responded.  
  
"I wonder what Buster's thinking right now," Arthur mused.  
  
Hundreds of miles away in a suburb of Chicago, Buster sat in his living room with his parents, Bitzi and Harry, watching the newscast from Elwood City.  
  
"It must be some kind of anti-gravity weapon," Buster opinionated.  
  
Meanwhile, the doorbell rang at the Read house. Arthur hurried to answer it, and was greeted by Greta the unicorn girl, whose horn was once again veiled.  
  
"I came as soon as I heard the news," she said. "I want to help The Professor."  
  
----  
  
"We can't wait any longer," said Arthur as The Professor mentally dictated his words. "We must attack Rascal before she can do any more damage."  
  
"But where is Rascal?" asked Greta, who sat with him and Francine in Arthur's bedroom.  
  
"Rascal and her agents have a secret base in an old barn by the creek," Arthur replied. "There are guard dogs, but Greta should have no trouble convincing them to let us through. Once we get inside, I expect we'll have to face Jean, Wolfie, and Magnemo. It may be a little dangerous, but I should be able to hold them off with my telepathy. In the meantime, the three of you will capture Rascal. She's the Irish setter. Her mind control can't affect you, but her absorption power can, so don't let her lick you."  
  
"And what do we do with Rascal after we capture her?" asked Francine.  
  
"Leave that to me," said Arthur confidently.  
  
"Can I blast her with pepper spray?"  
  
Greta stared at Francine. "Where did you get pepper spray?"  
  
Francine pulled the silver-metallic container from her pocket. "I stole it from Catherine while she was in the shower," she admitted.  
  
"It may be good for one or two blasts," said Arthur, still channeling for The Professor, "but you shouldn't rely on it."  
  
Francine narrowed her eyes. "Once this is over, I'm going to have a nice, long talk with my cat."  
  
----  
  
In the forest near the creek, Arthur, Francine, and Greta looked through the trees at the abandoned barn. More than a dozen large dogs of various breeds stood motionless on the structure's perimeter, sniffing the air and occasionally perking up their ears.  
  
The Professor, carefully cradled in Arthur's arms, transmitted his thoughts into the boy's mind. "Rascal is there," said Arthur. "So are Magnemo, Jean, and Wolfie. As I expected, she's keeping them close at hand, while making the non-mutant animals do her leg work."  
  
"Does she know we're coming?" asked Francine nervously.  
  
"She knows, and she's expecting us," Arthur answered. "Walking into her trap is part of my plan."  
  
"Then why waste time?" said Greta. "Let's get in there and take her down."  
  
"I agree," Arthur responded. "You know what to do, Greta."  
  
The three children strolled out of the forest and approached the barn, while Arthur tightened his grip on The Professor. As they drew closer, the guard dogs all turned their heads and began to bark and growl, but did not break formation.  
  
Then Greta opened her mouth and let out the most beautiful, haunting howl that Arthur and Francine had ever heard. She followed it with a series of short barks, then another howl half as long as the first.  
  
The guard dogs stopped growling and followed Greta with their eyes, as if enchanted by her vocalizations. Their tongues dangled from their mouths, and they made no attempt to stop the three children as they walked toward the barn door.  
  
The kids stepped through the creaking barn door nervously and cautiously, looking in all directions. Straw crackled under their shoes. The inside of the structure was mostly dark, with beams of sunlight slipping through the windows on one side.  
  
On the other end of the barn they could make out four small figures--an Irish setter, a greyhound, a pit bull terrier, and a striped cat.  
  
"Nemo," mouthed Francine. She pulled the pepper spray container from her pocket and wrapped her fingers tightly around it.  
  
Arthur bent down and placed The Professor on the floor. As he straightened up, he suddenly felt as if the wind was being squeezed from his lungs.  
  
Francine gasped for breath. Greta opened her mouth to make more animal noises, but an invisible force slammed it shut, causing her to bite her tongue.  
  
The three children were levitating above the floor as if suspended on strings. Arthur tried to move his arms, but the unseen force bound them to his sides. Then, all at once, they were hurled against the side wall of the barn.  
  
The impact was jarring. Their backs pinned to the wall, their feet still several inches above the floor, their arms and legs immobilized, they felt as if they were being crushed.  
  
"Professor, help us!" cried Francine. Greta tried to plead for assistance but could only mumble, as her mouth would not open.  
  
The Professor did not look at them, but walked slowly and assuredly in the direction of the Irish setter. Strands of hay became wedged between the spokes of his canine wheelchair.  
  
Rascal and The Professor glared at each other with pure hatred. Nemo sat motionlessly at Rascal's side, while Jean and Wolfie approached the helpless children menacingly.  
  
"I don't think being squashed was part of the plan," remarked the gasping Arthur.  
  
Then two voices made themselves heard in Arthur's and Francine's minds--one male, one female.  
  
"So you've finally seen reason and come to surrender to me," spoke the female voice, which they assumed came from Rascal.  
  
"On the contrary," said The Professor. "I've come to demand your surrender."  
  
Rascal laughed wickedly. "You can't defeat me. The powers I absorbed from the rabbit girl have made me your superior."  
  
The Professor continued to walk singlemindedly toward her. "I've been a telepath since before you were born. There's a great deal you don't know about my powers. I can wrest control of Jean and Wolfie from you in a heartbeat."  
  
"Oh, can you?"  
  
The three kids watched as Jean, who held them in a telekinetic vise grip, and Wolfie came and stood in front of them. Wolfie raised one of his paws and extended foot-long, razor-sharp blades from it.  
  
"We'll see if you're as good as your word." Rascal turned her head in the direction of Jean and Wolfie. "Kill them."  
  
(To be continued...) 


	16. If Wishes Were Horses

Greta panicked as the razor-clawed pit bull stood on his hind legs and reared back his paw, clearly intending to sink his blades into her heart.  
  
At that moment, Francine succeeded in wiggling the pepper spray container in her hand so that the nozzle was pointed toward Wolfie's face.  
  
She pushed the button. The chemical spray hit Wolfie dead on, but lasted only a split second before Jean's telekinetic influence ripped the container from Francine's hand.  
  
The pit bull blinked and sputtered. Francine realized in despair that she had only succeeded in annoying the dog.  
  
Stepping past Greta, the enraged Wolfie pointed his blades at Francine's chest...  
  
...when Nemo suddenly started to shake his head, as if emerging from a trance.  
  
He gasped when he saw the imperiled Francine. "My human! NOOOOO!"  
  
Wolfie's razor claws froze in midair only inches from the surface of Francine's coat. Enveloped by Nemo's magnetic rays, he flew into the air, performed a double backflip, and landed on top of Rascal, knocking her over and plunging his blades into her ribcage.  
  
Rascal struggled painfully for breath, then became silent and still.  
  
Moments later, the invisible force binding Arthur, Francine, and Greta weakened, and the three children fell onto the straw-covered floor.  
  
While Wolfie and Jean rushed to The Professor's side, Francine went over to Nemo and scooped him up in her arms. "Thanks, Nemo. We owe you our lives. But no more trashing department stores or else you're out on the street, got that?"  
  
Nemo purred and gazed affectionately at Francine, unable to understand a word the girl was saying.  
  
Arthur confronted The Professor and his comrades. "Wait a minute, Professor," he said with a hint of indignation. "Did you even try to free Jean and Wolfie from Rascal's control?"  
  
The Shih Tzu lowered his head meekly. Francine, still fondling Nemo, walked up to Arthur's side.  
  
"No," said The Professor.  
  
"What?" Francine's eyes went wide. "They could have killed us!"  
  
The Professor beamed a contrite confession into Arthur's and Francine's minds. "I knew when I crafted this plan that some of you might be sacrificed. You see, Rascal knew that I have a weakness for human children, and she couldn't resist exploiting it. When I said I could break her control over Jean and Wolfie, I was bluffing. With Rascal concentrating her mind control on them, there was no way I could have freed them in time to save you. So I freed Magnemo instead, which was something Rascal didn't expect."  
  
Arthur folded his arms and scowled. "You don't care about our lives, do you?"  
  
"Well," said The Professor, "you are, after all, only humans."  
  
Francine looked sourly at Arthur. "Gee, Arthur, I wonder who the real good guys are here."  
  
"We must leave you now." The Professor and the other surviving X-Pets turned and started to leave the barn. "Say hello to Pal for us."  
  
Ignoring them, Arthur and Francine walked back to the side wall of the barn, where Greta was standing and looking glumly at an object she held in her hands.  
  
As they drew closer, they observed that it was a golden, glowing unicorn horn.  
  
"Arthur, please leave," said Greta without raising her head.  
  
Without a word, Arthur turned and followed the X-Pets out of the barn. Once outside, he glanced around and saw that the guard dogs had all departed.  
  
Meanwhile, Greta tried to hand the unicorn horn to the reluctant Francine.  
  
"You saved my life," she said. "According to the rules and regulations of unicorn magic, I'm required to give you my horn."  
  
Francine looked at her quizzically. "What would I do with a unicorn horn?"  
  
"It's good for three wishes," Greta explained.  
  
The still incredulous Francine took the horn from Greta's hands. Holding it up and pointing it toward the barn roof, she proclaimed, "I wish for world peace!"  
  
"Be careful!" Greta admonished her. "Don't take the power of the horn lightly. Besides, you can't wish for world peace. You can only make a wish that affects yourself and nobody else."  
  
"Myself?" Francine lowered the horn and stared at it. "What kind of a deal is that? What if I want to wish for something good to happen to somebody else? Like, for Marina to get her memory back?"  
  
"Simple," Greta replied. "Give the horn to Marina, and let her make the wish."  
  
"Oh, I get it." Francine stuffed the horn in her pocket along with the pepper spray container.  
  
"Whatever you do," Greta advised, "don't let Mr. Baker know you have it. At least not until you've made your wishes."  
  
"Okay." Francine started toward the barn door, and Greta followed her.  
  
As the two girls exited, Arthur came up alongside them. "What was that all about?" he asked.  
  
"Oh, nothing," Greta replied. "Just girl talk."  
  
----  
  
"This is a magical wishing unicorn horn," Francine told Marina. "You can use it to get your memories back. You won't be a ten-year-old first-grader anymore."  
  
"Really?" Marina sat at a table in the special education classroom, with a Braille children's book open before her.  
  
"Really." Francine placed the horn in Marina's hands.  
  
"It's very smooth," said Marina.  
  
"Now repeat after me," Francine instructed her, "I wish I had my memories back."  
  
"I wish I had my memories back," Marina repeated.  
  
The blind girl suddenly became bewildered. "Where am I?" she asked, then set down the horn and brushed her hands over the Braille book in front of her. "Why am I reading this first-grade stuff?"  
  
Francine picked up the horn and smiled with amazement.  
  
"I don't think this is Mr. Baker's classroom," said Marina.  
  
----  
  
"This is a magical wishing unicorn horn," said Francine as she handed the horn to Sue Ellen. The two girls were seated on chairs in the Armstrongs' living room.  
  
"Is this some kind of joke?" Sue Ellen asked as she rubbed her fingers along the glowing horn.  
  
"No, it's real," Francine assured her. "Now, repeat after me. I wish I was cured of HIV."  
  
"Uh...I wish I was cured of HIV," Sue Ellen repeated.  
  
The girls looked at each other in silence for a few seconds.  
  
"It's some kind of joke, isn't it?" Sue Ellen reiterated.  
  
----  
  
On the couch in the Frensky living room sat Francine, who had been grounded for stealing Catherine's pepper spray. While her eyes idly watched TV, her hand repeatedly rubbed the candy-textured surface of the unicorn horn.  
  
"Maybe it's really magic," she pondered. "It worked on Marina, after all. Or was that just a coincidence? Well, there's only one way to be sure."  
  
As she thought about the strange events she had witnessed, her sister Catherine came out of the bedroom. "Hey, Cath," Francine called to her.  
  
"What?" Catherine stopped on her way to the kitchen.  
  
"If you could have a wish granted," asked Francine, "any wish in the whole world, what would you wish for?"  
  
"Um...I don't know," said Catherine indifferently. "Money, or a cool sports car, or beauty..."  
  
"Okay, let me rephrase that," Francine continued. "You can have any wish, as long as it affects you and nobody else. You can't wish for money or cars or any material stuff."  
  
"Uh..." Catherine thought for a few seconds. "Okay, so I can wish for perfect health, or unlimited intelligence, or unlimited beauty..."  
  
"Yeah," said Francine. "All those things are legal."  
  
"What about immortality?" Catherine suggested.  
  
"Uh...I guess so. I never thought of that one."  
  
"Hmm. If I wished for perfect health...well, I guess that's the same thing as immortality, because I'm not healthy if I die. If I wished for unlimited intelligence, I would just be miserable because everybody else is stupider than me. So it's gotta be either immortality or unlimited beauty. And I wouldn't want to be ugly for the rest of eternity, so I guess I'll have to go with unlimited beauty."  
  
Francine's face fell. This was not at all the answer she was looking for.  
  
"While I'm at it," Catherine went on, "I suppose I could wish to be another species, like a rabbit or a moose. What do you think, Frankie? Would I look cuter as a rabbit or a moose?"  
  
----  
  
As Francine turned off the light and climbed into her bed, Catherine persisted in her meaningless chatter. "I think cat girls are the cutest of all, with their cute little pointy ears. On the other hand, the poodle girls with their floppy ears aren't bad-looking either. Oh, I just don't know, Frankie."  
  
Francine groaned. The unicorn horn that lay on her desk seemed to shine even more than the night light.  
  
"What would you wish for, Frankie?" Catherine asked.  
  
"I'm not sure," Francine answered.  
  
The room was silent for a few seconds.  
  
"You're always talking about how boys have it better than girls," said Catherine. "Maybe you could wish to be a boy."  
  
"Hmm," mused Francine. "That's a possibility."  
  
Catherine stopped talking. Minutes later, Francine drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	17. A Christmas Surprise

It was morning on December 25th, the day known to Arthur and his family as Christmas. Waking up at 6 a.m., Arthur and D.W. waited impatiently, watched TV, and ate candy until 10 a.m., when it came time to open the presents. 

As their parents, Grandma Thora, and Grandpa Dave looked on, the two kids tore into the pile of presents in search of articles marked with their names.

D.W. picked up a box-shaped present with a red bow. "D, W," she read carefully. "That spells D.W. From...Mom...and...Dad."

"Open it, dear," said Mrs. Read.

Ripping off the paper and opening the box, D.W. was delighted to find a stuffed Arnold the Antelope toy. Grinning, she started to push the button in the antelope's stomach repeatedly, causing it to say, "Don't miss my show on PBS. Don't miss my show on PBS. Please change my batteries soon."

"Thanks, Mom and Dad," said D.W. joyfully. "But how did you know Santa wouldn't bring me one?"

"Santa has X-ray eyes," Mr. Read explained. "When he saw the antelope under the tree, he left you something else instead."

Arthur came toward his mother, clutching a small box present with a blue bow. "Before I open any of my presents," he said meekly, "I want you to open this one."

"How thoughful of you, Arthur." Mrs. Read opened the box and found a small, blue glass duck inside. "Oh, it's lovely!"

"I didn't break it this year," Arthur boasted.

A moment later the doorbell rang. Arthur answered it, and was greeted by Francine, who held two wrapped presents in her hands. "Merry Christmas," she said, smiling.

"Happy Hanukkah," Arthur replied.

Francine, clad in a dark down coat and scarf, strolled into the house without waiting for an invitation. "I got some great stuff this year. This new coat's warmer than my old one. And I got the latest Seriously Unfortunate Events book. And no dolls."

She held a small but elongated box present in one hand, and a bulky, clumsily wrapped present in the other. She placed the larger present in Mrs. Read's lap, and she opened it. "Oh, it's a ham," she said, trying to sound grateful. "Thank you, Francine."

"It's from the Crosswires, isn't it?" asked Arthur.

Francine ignored his question, and handed her other present to D.W. "When I found this, I knew it was perfect for you."

Excited, D.W. removed the wrapping paper. Inside the box she found, wrapped in tissues, a long, pointed, golden-colored horn. She stammered with surprise and wonder. "It's a...it's a..."

"It's a unicorn horn!" Francine exclaimed, smiling. "From a real unicorn." Arthur opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but stopped himself.

"Awesome!" D.W. waved the horn in the air as if conducting a marching band. "Is it magic?" she asked.

"Yeah," Francine answered. "You get wishes."

"I wish I had a unicorn to go with this horn," said D.W. Nothing happened. She glanced around, disappointed.

Francine crouched down next to her. "Try again," she said insincerely. "You have to wish with all your heart."

D.W. waved the horn wildly. "I wish, I wish, with all my heart, that I was a unicorn...uh, had a unicorn."

She suddenly dropped the horn, placed her hands over the bridge of her nose, and started to whine.

"What's wrong, D.W.?" asked Grandma Thora.

"My...my face hurts..." the girl mumbled weakly.

Sinking to her knees, D.W. clutched at her forehead and groaned in pain. Arthur and her parents rushed to her side, and shortly Grandma Thora and Grandpa Dave surrounded her as well.

"Where does it hurt?" Mrs. Read asked, but her daughter didn't answer.

"I'd better call a doctor." Mr. Read jumped to his feet and hurried to the phone.

Then Arthur and Francine watched something unbelievable happen before their eyes. "Uh, Dad, don't call the doctor just yet," called Arthur.

Francine, terrified, began to stutter. "It...it r-really is m-magic..."

Before the astonished eyes of all assembled, D.W. underwent an almost spontaneous transformation. White horse-like hair sprouted from her skin, her nose grew longer, and--most amazingly of all--a spiraling, glowing horn grew out of the middle of her forehead, pushing her fingers apart.

"What's happening?" asked Grandpa Dave, who was the only one who could speak. "I don't understand."

Arthur and Francine shot each other knowing looks. "Greta!" they cried in unison.

As they stood and raced toward the phone, D.W. stopped moaning and began to curiously run her hands over the golden protrusion on her forehead. Without warning, she burst through the surrounding throng of concerned relatives and sped up the stairway toward the upstairs bathroom.

After a pause of a few seconds, during which her parents and grandparents could only assume that she was looking at her reflection in the mirror, they heard a loud cry. They weren't sure whether it was an expression of extreme horror or extreme delight.

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

As they gathered at the foot of the stairway, they saw a creature emerge from the bathroom who appeared to be part D.W., part horse, and part hatrack. Its face was twisted in a joyful, triumphant smile.

"It worked!" cried Unicorn D.W. "I got my wish! Francine, I'm a unicorn!"

Ecstatic, she leaped down the stairway and toward Francine, who was talking on the phone with Arthur standing behind her. "Fern, you need to contact Greta right away. It's an emergency."

Hearing D.W.'s shouts, Francine turned just in time for D.W. to affectionately throw her arms around her waist...and ram her in the gut with her horn.

Francine grimaced and gasped agonizingly for breath.

"Thank you, Francine," D.W. gushed. "This is my best Christmas present ever!"

----

As Arthur, Francine, Greta, and the still-overjoyed Unicorn D.W. gathered in Arthur's bedroom, Greta closed the door after them and scowled at Francine. "You told me you used all the wishes," she said angrily. A wisp of golden smoke emerged from her forehead, gradually reshaping into her partially regrown horn.

"I'm sorry, Greta," Francine replied contritely. "I didn't believe it was really magic. I gave one wish to Marina, and one to Sue Ellen, and then I was about to wish to be a boy, but I..."

"You _what?_" Arthur stared at her, astonished. Francine gasped and put her hands over her mouth. Meanwhile, D.W. stood on a chair in front of Arthur's dresser mirror and admired her new unicorn face.

"Never mind that." Greta continued to look at Arthur and Francine sternly. "We have a serious problem on our hands. D.W. will have to be trained to keep her unicorn identity a secret."

D.W. turned to her. "Why should I keep it a secret? Being a unicorn is cool."

Greta raised a finger and tapped the point of D.W.'s horn. "Your horn has wishing powers, D.W. There are people who would do anything, even hurt you, to get your horn. And since they know nothing about unicorn magic, they can make careless wishes that change their lives forever, just like you did."

"Greta, did you just say 'forever'?" asked Francine.

"I don't mean forever literally," Greta replied. "I mean, for the rest of her life, which could be two thousand years or more."

"Two thousand years?" D.W.'s horse face lit up. "Wow! That's forever!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Francine waved her hands. "D.W. is not gonna live two thousand years. There's a way to change her back...isn't there, Greta?"

Greta's expression became somber. "No, there isn't."

(To be continued...)


	18. Forever Young

Arthur gaped at Greta. "What do you mean, there isn't?"  
  
"You mean I'm stuck like this?" asked D.W., jumping down from the chair.  
  
"Yes, you are, I'm afraid," Greta replied.  
  
"All right!" D.W. waved her arms happily.  
  
Francine stepped in front of Greta, scowling. "I don't believe you. A wish got her into this, and a wish can get her out. All we need is another horn."  
  
"You don't understand," said Greta timidly. "There are rules and regulations. Unicorns aren't affected by unicorn magic. They can't make wishes."  
  
Glowering angrily, Francine grabbed the collar of Greta's blouse. "Break the rules!" she roared. "Nobody's leaving this room until D.W. is an aardvark again!"  
  
Gaining confidence, Greta pushed Francine's arms aside. "You shouldn't talk to your elders that way," she said condescendingly.  
  
Francine clenched her fists and gnashed her teeth, but relaxed when Arthur put a hand on her shoulder. "This won't get us anywhere," he told her.  
  
"There's gotta be a way." Francine's voice reflected desperation. "It's my fault this happened. I gave her the horn. I didn't believe it was magic."  
  
"Don't blame yourself," said Greta comfortingly. "You made an honest mistake."  
  
Arthur looked at the unicorn girl curiously. "So you're saying unicorn magic won't change D.W. back."  
  
"Correct," said Greta.  
  
"Then we'll use some other kind of magic, like dragon magic, or mermaid magic."  
  
Greta folded her arms and spoke in an arrogant tone. "Don't be silly. Dragons and mermaids don't exist."  
  
"Are you sure about that?" Francine asked bluntly. "After all, we didn't believe in unicorns until we met you."  
  
"Trust me," Greta replied. "I've been all over the world, and I haven't seen a single dragon or mermaid."  
  
D.W. walked up and stood in the midst of the three kids. "Hey, does anybody care what I want?" she asked petulantly.  
  
"And what do you want?" Greta asked her.  
  
"I want to stay like this." D.W. caressed her horn with her fingers.  
  
"Well, you really don't have a choice," Greta pointed out. "But being a unicorn in a human world is complicated. You'll have to keep your horn hidden like I do."  
  
"How do I do that?" D.W. asked.  
  
"Close your eyes and concentrate," Greta instructed her. "Imagine your horn disappearing."  
  
D.W. closed her eyelids tightly and started to hum. Seconds later, her horn began to gradually fade away until it was replaced by a small lump on her forehead. "Very good," said Greta.  
  
Opening her eyes, D.W. reached up and felt her forehead. "The horn's gone!" she cried with surprise. Climbing onto the chair again, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and sighed sadly. "Now I look like a stupid horse."  
  
"No, you look like a cute little pony," said Arthur. D.W. slowly started to smile.  
  
"That's how you'll look from now on to everyone who doesn't know your secret," Greta informed her.  
  
D.W.'s face fell again. "But I wanted to show my horn to Nadine, and Emily, and Dallin, and Vicita, and the Tibble twins. Now they'll just think I'm a pony, and they'll want to ride me and pet my nose and give me sugar cubes."  
  
"If you want to stay with your family," Greta admonished her, "you mustn't tell anyone that you're a unicorn."  
  
D.W., Arthur, and Francine gave her shocked looks.  
  
Greta took a deep breath. "We unicorns are an insular community. That means we keep to ourselves. I had to beg my parents for days just to get permission to meet Fern. If they find out what happened to D.W., they may ask the Sentinels to come here and take her away to live with the unicorns."  
  
The other kids gasped. "Wh-what are the Sentinels?" asked D.W. fearfully.  
  
"You don't want to know." Greta's voice took on an ominous tone. "All I can tell you is, if you ever see their faces, you'll never see your family again."  
  
----  
  
Later that afternoon, the Cooper family celebrated the holiday in the customary fashion, gathering around the piano and singing Christmas songs.  
  
As Van rolled up alongside his father and Quinn began to play "Silent Night" on the piano, Mrs. Cooper noted that everyone was present except for Odette. "Hold it, Quinn," she said. "Let me go see what's up with Odette."  
  
She started toward the bedroom shared by Quinn and Odette, while the other family members muttered impatiently. Even Logan appeared anxious to belt out some holiday tunes.  
  
Mrs. Cooper found Odette sitting on the edge of her bed, her swan neck craned downwards, her eyes desolate. Spread across her lap was an embroidery that Quinn had given her as a present.  
  
Turning to face her mother, Odette picked up the embroidery and held it open so that she could see the pattern. On the bottom was an image of a small ship on a stormy sea; above this were written the lines:  
  
"All the water in all the world,  
  
No matter how it tried,  
  
Could never sink the smallest ship,  
  
Unless it got inside.  
  
All the evil in all the world,  
  
The blackest type of sin,  
  
Cannot harm you one least bit  
  
Unless you let it in."  
  
"It's not true, Mom," said Odette despondently. "Evil can get inside you, just like water can get inside a ship."  
  
Mrs. Cooper gazed at her lovingly, as if wishing that her eyes could burn out Odette's memories of her captivity at the Higher Power compound.  
  
"I did what they told me to do because I was afraid they would hit me," Odette went on. "But after a while, I felt like I really wanted to do those things."  
  
"Maybe you should talk to the reverend again," her mother suggested.  
  
Odette looked down at her feet. "All he can do is refer me to a counselor," she said hopelessly. "And all the counselor can do is talk to me about my experiences, and tell me to relax and meditate. So that's what I've been doing, but it's not helping."  
  
"Maybe you just need to spend a little more time at it," said her mother.  
  
Odette didn't answer.  
  
"Are you going to sing with us?"  
  
"No, Mom," Odette answered. "Go ahead without me."  
  
As Mrs. Cooper slowly left the room, Odette laid the embroidery over her lap again, and sighed miserably.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	19. Boys vs Girls

"I can't find a thing wrong with her," said the doctor as he laid his stethoscope on the counter. "She's in perfect physical condition for a pony girl, except for that little raised spot on her forehead." 

"Up until yesterday, she wasn't a pony girl," said Mrs. Read, who was seated next to her husband in the doctor's office. "She was an aardvark, like us."

As Unicorn D.W. (whose horn was still invisible) gawked at a picture of the gastrointestinal tract hanging on a nearby wall, the doctor handed her blouse back to her, and she began to clothe herself.

"Spontaneous trans-species mutations are not unheard of," said the doctor officiously, "although most reported cases take place during puberty. There's no medical explanation yet, but scientists are going on the assumption that it's a result of suppressed DNA from another species being triggered by some bodily change or traumatic event. Are there any horse people in your family tree?"

"None that we know of," Mr. Read replied.

"Mom, what's DNA?" asked D.W., climbing down from the checkup table.

"It's something inside you that makes you what you are," her mother replied.

The doctor had a final piece of advice for the Reads as they exited the office with D.W. "If she grows a tail or starts eating grass, bring her right back."

They stopped at the reception desk on the way out of the medical building, and the receptionist handed D.W. a red heart-shaped balloon with the words, I'M A LITTLE PATIENT.

"Mom, will I really grow a tail or start eating grass?" she asked, tugging on the string to make the balloon bounce in the air.

"Of course not, dear," said Mrs. Read as they maneuvered through the revolving door that led out of the building.

"But...what if my DNA gets changed even more? What if I turn into a real pony? What if I get hair all over my neck and all I can say is ne-e-e-e-e and you have to put me in a stall and feed me oats and put horseshoes on me and Arthur gets to ride me to school?"

"That won't happen," her father replied. "Besides, you're not a pony, you're a unicorn."

"I still don't understand why you didn't want us to tell the doctor about your horn," said her mother.

"I don't either," said D.W. "But Greta says it's really important that I keep it a secret. If I don't, Santa's elves will come and take me away."

"Santa's elves?" Mrs. Read gave her a surprised look while helping her into the back seat of the car.

"No, it wasn't Santa's elves," said D.W., fastening her seat belt. "It was a different word, but it sounded like Santa's elves."

----

On the couch in her living room, Prunella sat engrossed in a paperback book entitled QUANTUM PHYSICS FOR IMBECILES LIKE YOU. As she carefully examined a diagram of a two-slit experiment, there came a knock on the door. "I'll get it," she called.

When she opened the door, she was surprised to see the last person she expected to ever visit her house--Odette Cooper.

"Uh, hi, Odette," she stammered. "Won't you...won't you come in?"

Lowering her long neck, Odette stepped over the threshold into Prunella's house. "You look like you've never seen a swan before," she said seriously.

"Oh, I've seen swans," Prunella responded. "One or two, at least. It's just that...Binky talks so much about you, and I never thought you'd actually..."

"I'll get right to the point," Odette interrupted. "As far as I'm concerned, you're a phony. But you're a very successful phony. I think you're using meditation techniques to convince yourself that you have psychic visions. That's what I came here to talk to you about."

Prunella lowered her head slightly as Odette followed her into the living room. "I don't do that sort of thing anymore," she told the much taller swan girl. "Too many people were getting hurt. I have a new hobby now."

"What's that?" asked Odette curiously.

"Science!" Prunella's face glowed as she picked up the quantum physics book from the end table. "Did you know that electrons are so small, you can change their behavior just by looking at them? It's so cool! Science is even weirder than magic."

Odette stared at her incredulously. "Okay, who are you really, and what have you done with Prunella Prufrock?"

Prunella chuckled. "Well, if you put it that way, I'm really Muffy Crosswire, and I've turned Prunella into a science geek with my new Blinded by Science program."

Odette thoughtfully rubbed the top of her neck. "Yes, I remember Muffy talking about that. I figured it was another of her money-making schemes."

"I don't know if it makes money," said Prunella enthusiastically, "but it sure turned me on to science. I can't get enough of it now."

"I didn't come here to talk about science," said Odette with a hint of pain in her voice. "I'm going through counseling right now, and I'm looking for any information I can find about meditation."

"Like I said, I've given it up," Prunella answered. "You're better off talking to my sister, Rubella. My friend Sue Ellen knows a lot about it too."

"Okay," said Odette, turning to leave. "Thanks, Prunella."

As she lowered her neck to walk out the door, she muttered to herself pensively. "I didn't think Prunella would ever give up voodoo for science. But somehow Muffy did it. Maybe I've misjudged her."

"One other thing," Prunella yelled after her. "If a Pomeranian tries to talk to you, don't listen!"

----

The holiday ended too quickly, and soon the kids found themselves trudging through several inches of snow on their way to school.

Into Miss Cosma's kindergarten classroom strolled D.W., wearing a red cap over her ears and a striped scarf around her face. The other students, including Timmy, Vicita, Emily, Dallin, and Nadine, were regaling each other with stories of the wonderful new toys they had received as Christmas presents.

"My mom sent me a replica of the Leaning Tower of Pizza," Timmy boasted to Dallin.

"My mom made me a quilt with an Indian pattern on it," the little duck boy replied.

"My presents are better than your presents," said Timmy arrogantly.

"At least_my_ mom was home for Christmas," Dallin retorted.

As D.W. approached the group, Emily was rattling off to Nadine the gifts she had received. "...and a Polly Locket doll, and a new set of earrings with stars on them that didn't turn my ears green, and a Pony Tales coloring book."

"My mom said she would get me a new dad for Christmas," said Nadine glumly, "but she didn't. Maybe next year."

D.W. took a seat in the circle, and Vicita was the first to speak to her. "Hey, D.W., why is your face all white?"

"I'll bet she has the flu, like Tommy," Timmy speculated.

"No, it's not the flu," said D.W., her voice muffled by the red-and-white scarf wrapped around her mouth.

"What did you get for Christmas, D.W.?" Nadine asked, smiling.

"The best present in the whole world!" D.W. gushed.

"A talking pig?" asked Emily curiously.

"A Glissando 2000 video game console?" asked Timmy.

"A baseball bat with Sammy Salsa's signature on it?" asked Dallin.

"Wait, I know!" Vicita bounced eagerly in her chair. "A pony!"

"Better than a pony," said D.W. She quickly and dramatically pulled off her cap and scarf, revealing the ears and face of a white horse in place of her usual aardvark features.

Vicita grimaced with disappointment. "A pony mask? That's not better than a pony."

D.W. smiled. "It's not a mask. I really am a pony."

Intrigued, Nadine jumped from her chair and walked slowly to where D.W. was seated. She ran her hand over D.W.'s elongated nose and huge nostrils, and gasped unbelievingly.

When Miss Cosma entered the classroom holding a batch of alphabetical flash cards, she saw all of the children gleefully rubbing D.W.'s equine nose. Astonished, she approached and hesitantly reached out until her fingers were touching the ridge between D.W.'s nostrils. She marveled at the periodic bursts of warm air emitting from the two large holes.

D.W., her expression one of joyous pride, reached into the pocket of her blouse and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "This is a note from my mom," she explained, handing it to Miss Cosma.

The teacher slowly unfolded the note. "I'll bet it says, 'Please excuse D.W. from kindergarten today because she's a little hoarse'," said Dallin. "Get it? A little hoarse?" The children giggled.

"No, it doesn't say that," Miss Cosma informed them. "It says, 'Please don't be alarmed by D.W.'s appearance. The doctor doesn't know what's wrong with her yet, but believes that her condition is not contagious. Please encourage the other children to treat her normally.'" She looked at D.W. seriously. "How long will you be like that?"

"I don't know," D.W. answered. "Probably two thousand years." The children laughed again.

"Is D.W. sick?" asked Vicita earnestly.

"No," replied Miss Cosma as she sat in the large chair at the head of the circle. "Sometimes people change as they grow up. It's not a bad thing."

"Will we change too?" asked Emily.

"Maybe, maybe not," the teacher answered. "In Romania there's a legend of a boy who was bitten by a snake, and turned into a snake boy with scales all over his body. His nose and eyelids fell off, and he had to smell with his tongue."

The kids squealed with disgust and horror.

"Is that a true story?" D.W. inquired.

"Nobody knows," said Miss Cosma ominously. "Some legends are based on fact, and some are just legends."

Timmy leaned over to Dallin. "Hey, Dallin, maybe if Nadine bites you, you'll grow a tail."

"Yeah, and you'll turn into a girl," Nadine chimed in.

Dallin stuck out his tongue and clutched his stomach. "Eww, that's gross!"

"What's wrong with being a girl?" asked D.W.

----

"What's wrong with being a girl?" asked Arthur. He and Francine were seated together on a bench in the center court of Lakewood Elementary, shortly before the beginning of classes.

Francine turned her face away from Arthur and stared into space. "Let's just leave it alone, okay?"

Arthur became pensive for a moment. "I wonder," he mused, "what would have happened if you had wished to be a boy. You'd have to get a haircut, we'd all have to start calling you Frank, you'd get to go into the boys' locker room with us..."

"Would you please stop?" Francine snapped at him. Arthur fell silent and looked at her apologetically.

As they gazed at each other, Francine's annoyed expression turned into one of regret. She lifted one hand and held out her thumb and forefinger.

"I was this close. I had Greta's horn in my hand, and I was wondering what my life would be like if I was a boy, and then I said to myself, 'This is stupid. There's no such thing as magic.' So I put the horn in a box and wrapped it up, and gave it to D.W. for Christmas." Francine's face fell. "If only I'd known. Now I'll never be a boy, and D.W. is doomed to be a unicorn for the next two thousand years."

"So what's wrong with being a girl?" Arthur asked again.

Francine looked a bit hurt and angry as she spread out her fingers and started to count on them. "One, I can't play professional football. Two, I can't play on a soccer team with David Beckham. Three, I can't play on a soccer team_against_ David Beckham. Four, I'll always be smaller than the boys, and I'll have to carry a pepper spray like Catherine does in case they try to beat me up. Five..."

As Francine racked her brain to come up with a fifth item, Arthur volunteered one of his own. "Five, you can have a crush on a girl and it's okay."

Francine lowered her eyes, embarrassed.

Arthur reached up and pulled off his glasses, so that Francine became an amorphous blob to his view. "Look at my eyes," he said sternly. "They're little black dots. I'm a boy, and I'll never play pro football because of my bad eyesight. And Van will never play pro football, because he's crippled. And Buster has asthma, and George is a shrimp, and Alan's a geek, and Binky only cares about wrestling. Francine, just because you're a boy doesn't mean you automatically get to play pro football."

The two children looked at each other wordlessly.

"I'm being silly," Francine finally spoke up. "It's just that...for a moment, I actually had a choice...and then I blew it."

Arthur, his glasses still removed, reached out and groped until he found Francine's shoulder. "I'm not the one to talk to," he said comfortingly. "Talk to Catherine. Or better yet, talk to D.W. She'll tell you how great it is to be a girl. She'll tell anyone who listens."

"Okay." Francine grinned. "Now put on your glasses. You're creeping me out."

After replacing his glasses, Arthur glanced at his Bionic Bunny watch. "I guess we should get to class now," he said, rising from the bench.

Francine stood up. "You go on ahead. I need to pee." She lowered her eyes sadly. "Sitting down."

Arthur looked at her with concern and compassion. Upon seeing his expression, Francine burst out laughing.

(To be continued...)


	20. Woof

"Did you know that if you go faster than the speed of light, you'll go backwards in time?" said Sue Ellen cheerily. "The problem is, you can't go faster than the speed of light. But if you go really close to the speed of light, you'll go forwards in time. Einstein proved it." 

"Interesting," muttered Odette as she wrote her name on the girl's arm cast, in elaborate cursive and in an arc resembling a swan's neck.

"Blinded by Science is such a great program," Sue Ellen enthused. "Mrs. Stiles and Muffy have really come up with something. I can't wait until the next volume."

Odette stuck her feather pen into her backpack and glanced up at the Sugar Bowl menu posted on the wall. The Big Pig Sundae...The Harry Mills Special...Sue Ellen's Chicken Surprise...

She looked again at the orange-haired girl who sat across the table from her, still babbling about the glories of science. "Was that named after you?" she asked curiously.

Sue Ellen stopped in mid-sentence. "What?"

"Sue Ellen's Chicken Surprise. Is that named after you?"

"Yeah, it is. Mr. Menino added it to the menu after I saved him from having to sell the place to Chicken Licken."

"So what's the surprise?" asked Odette.

"There's no chicken in it." Sue Ellen giggled.

"That's really clever," said Odette flatly. "Now, I'm thinking of taking up yoga, and I understand you know a thing or two about..."

"Yoga? Who has time for that?" Sue Ellen checked her watch. "I just checked out a book about cellular biology, and if I start reading now, I think I can finish it by bedtime." Grabbing her pack with her good arm, she flung it over her shoulder and leaped from her seat. "See you later, Van's sister."

As Odette watched her exit the ice cream shop, George strolled up to her table, licking a chocolate chip waffle cone that was dripping on his shirt. "Hey, you're Van's sister," he pointed out.

"I have a name," said Odette peevishly.

"Did you know that sound travels faster in water than it does through air?" said the moose boy.

Odette feigned ignorance. "I didn't know that."

George licked his cone again. "Which means if you fall in the river and you're drowning, if you yell for help with your head under water, then you'll get help faster."

"If only I'd known that the last time I was drowning," Odette quipped. "Well, you live and you learn."

A moment later Binky rushed into the store, a huge grin on his huge face. "Hey, George!" he called out. "Hi, Odette," he said, glancing briefly and somewhat indifferently in the swan girl's direction.

Odette waved and smiled weakly.

"I think I figured out the answer to your question," Binky said to George. "An irresistible force can't meet an immovable object, because if an immovable object exists, then an irresistible force doesn't exist, and the other way around."

"That's really good, Binky," said George as a few more drops fell from his waffle cone onto his shirt.

"Blinded by Science is making me smarter all the time," Binky exulted.

Odette stared straight ahead and paid no attention to the exchange between George and Binky...but found that she couldn't stop thinking about her former ballet classmate.

_Oh, Binky_, she thought wistfully. _If only things could be the way they were before. If only I had trusted Van instead of trying to spy on him and Muffy..._

Then, unexpectedly, a new and unsettling possibility occurred to her.

----

"Woof, woof, woof!" shouted D.W. She and Greta stood in the Read living room, their golden horns in full view. In front of them Pal lay on a circular rug, obliviously licking his paw.

"Not like that," said Greta. "Now watch and listen." The unicorn girl opened her mouth, and several ethereal barking sounds emerged from her throat.

Pal, suddenly intrigued, looked up at her. "Arf!" he responded, then went back to his paw licking.

"What did he say?" asked D.W. curiously.

"He said that someone broke a Christmas ornament and didn't clean up all of the pieces, so he stepped on one and cut his paw," Greta replied.

"Whoa." D.W. put her fingers to her mouth thoughtfully. "You got all that from one bark?"

"Dog languages are very efficient," Greta remarked. "Now, close your eyes and concentrate, and see if you can make the same sounds that I made."

D.W. closed her eyes tightly and opened her mouth wide. The horn sticking out of her forehead seemed to glow more intensely as she succeeded in producing a number of unearthly-sounding barks and howls.

Pal suddenly leaped to his paws and scampered away from D.W., yelping in terror.

The surprised D.W. opened her eyes and watched as Pal disappeared behind a corner. "What happened?" she asked Greta.

"That was much better," Greta commended her. "Pal was frightened because he's never heard you speak dog before."

"What did I say?" asked D.W. eagerly.

Greta placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "You don't need me to answer that. You know what you said."

D.W. thought for a moment, then smiled proudly. "I know what I said! I told him I was sorry for breaking the Christmas tree ball, and I hope his paw gets better."

Greta pulled D.W. to her chest and embraced her. "That's right! Oh, D.W., you'll make such a great unicorn!"

"What else can unicorns do?" asked D.W. as Greta pulled her arms away.

"We can do all kinds of magic," Greta answered. "But it takes a long time to learn."

"I want to learn all of it." D.W. clapped her hands with excitement. "How long will it take, Greta?"

"Five hundred years, or more," said Greta seriously. "And I can't teach you everything. You need a more experienced unicorn teacher."

"Five hundred years..." The light in D.W.'s eyes began to dim. "That's a really, really, really long time, isn't it?"

"In human years, yes," Greta replied. She put her hand on D.W.'s back and led her to the couch, where they sat down together. "I don't think you fully understand. D.W., now that you're a unicorn, you're going to live for a long, long time. When your parents die, when Arthur dies, when all your friends die, when Kate dies, you'll still be a child."

D.W. looked at her with confusion and anxiety.

Greta's voice became more somber. "You should think about looking for new friends and a new family. A unicorn family. A family that will live as long as you will."

"But I don't want a new family," said D.W. naively. "I want to stay here with Mom and Dad and Arthur."

"I know you do. But you're a unicorn now. You're different from them. You need to be with other unicorns so you can learn their ways."

"How many unicorns are there?"

"Many," said Greta with a wave of her hand, "but that's not important. D.W., you can't learn unicorn magic by going to kindergarten. You need to go to a unicorn school with other unicorn children."

"Where do unicorns live?" asked D.W., her curiosity unabated.

"We have hidden places. But that's..."

Greta's thought was interrupted by a ring of the doorbell. "I'll get it," called Mrs. Read from the laundry room.

"Turn your horn off, quick!" Greta ordered D.W. The two girls concentrated, and their golden horns evaporated into mist and vanished.

As she and D.W. rose from the couch, Greta glanced toward the front door and observed, to her dismay, that Mrs. Read had allowed Fern Walters into the house.

"So this is where you've been," said Fern, approaching Greta eagerly. "Why didn't you tell me? Why have you been avoiding me?"

Then she looked down at D.W., who was standing next to Greta, and froze in her tracks.

She looked at Greta again. Then at D.W. Then at Greta.

She opened her mouth, but no words would come out.

(To be continued...)


	21. Fern Picks Up the Scent

As Fern stood transfixed and gaping at D.W.'s altered visage, Greta rushed to the front door and threw it open. She was still turning her head from side to side, scanning the street in both directions, when Mrs. Read, Fern, D.W., and Arthur (who had heard Fern's arrival from his bedroom) gathered around her. 

"What are you looking for, Greta?" Mrs. Read asked the unicorn girl.

"I have to make sure Mr. Baker didn't follow Fern here," Greta replied.

Fern shot her an angry glance. "Why are you so afraid of Mr. Baker?" she demanded. "And what did you do to D.W.?"

"I didn't do anything to her," said Greta as she slowly closed the front door.

"The doctor's still trying to figure out what's wrong with her," said Mrs. Read. "But he believes it's not contagious."

Fern reexamined D.W. as the fivesome walked toward the living room. "She looks just like you, Greta," she noted. "Only the hair is different. How did you do it?"

"I told you..." Greta began.

"Wait a minute," Arthur interrupted Greta. "You mean...Fern doesn't know?"

"Know what?" Fern's tone of voice seemed to grow more suspicious with every word.

"That...er...uh..." Greta stammered for a moment, then suddenly threw her arm around Arthur's shoulders and smiled. "That Arthur is my boyfriend now!"

Unfortunately, Arthur's horrified grimace did little to convince Fern of the truthfulness of Greta's statement.

"Isn't that right, honey?" said Greta sweetly as she nudged Arthur's leg with her knee.

"Uh, yes, dear." Arthur leaned over and gave Greta a peck on the cheek. He tried to smile, but looked as if he had just been forced to eat a cockroach.

Fern and D.W. sat on the couch together, and Fern started to run her fingers along D.W.'s horse nose. "This is incredible," she remarked.

Greta seated herself next to the two girls. "I had nothing to do with it," she insisted. "Horse people just look alike, that's all."

"But neither of you looks like Mr. Wald," Fern countered. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that you're really a unicorn, and now you've turned D.W. into a unicorn. That's what Mr. Baker seems to think. But I know that can't be true, because unicorns aren't real."

"Of course not." Greta chuckled insincerely. "Who believes in that stuff?"

"Mr. Baker does," Fern replied. "And you still haven't told me why you're so afraid of him."

"I wish I could answer your question, but I can't," said Greta. "Suffice it to say, you mustn't let Mr. Baker come near me or D.W."

"What?" Fern stared at her incredulously. "Why is D.W. in danger from Mr. Baker?"

"I can't answer that question, either. This is a matter of utmost sensitivity. You've got to trust me, Fern."

However, Fern appeared to not trust Greta in the least. Leaping from the couch, she pointed an accusing finger at the girl. "I think you're hiding something, Greta von Horstein. And I won't rest until I find out what it is!"

In a huff, Fern walked out of the room and out the front door. Mrs. Read, in the meantime, headed back to the laundry room.

Arthur took a seat next to Greta and D.W. "I can't believe you never told her that you're a unicorn," he said to Greta.

"Fern's my best human friend in the world," Greta answered with a hint of emotion. "I won't endanger her by revealing my secret."

"With Fern sniffing around, it won't stay a secret for long."

Greta, her expression becoming more anxious, pulled herself up from the couch. "I should go now."

"But I want to talk to Pal some more!" D.W. whined.

"Just practice what I taught you." Greta patted D.W. on the head and then turned toward the front door.

"Bye, Greta," said Arthur, waving.

As she opened the door to leave, Greta turned and gave Arthur and D.W. a final, sad glance. She closed the door behind her and started down the sidewalk, unaware that Fern was watching her from behind a tree half a block away.

"So, what did Pal say to you?" Arthur asked D.W.

"Nothing," D.W. replied. "He just ran away." She became silent and thoughtful as her horn gradually reappeared. "You know what, Arthur? I wish all my friends would turn into unicorns, so they can live as long as me, and I won't be lonely."

"But I don't want to be a unicorn," said Arthur.

"You're not my friend," said D.W., grinning. "You're my brother."

----

"I tip my hat...to _you!_" were the grim words emblazoned above the image of a shadowy fiend clad in an overcoat and fedora, in the movie poster for _Death Wore a Derby_.

Each time Muffy started on one of the algebra problems that Mrs. Stiles had assigned her, she found her attention diverted by the gruesome poster. She had watched the movie with Francine not long after starting fourth grade, and neither girl had found it very interesting.

The phone rang. Mrs. Stiles, who was in the kitchen mixing dough for a batch of late Christmas cookies, picked it up. "Muffy, it's for you," she called.

Relieved to have an excuse to put off her algebra homework, Muffy leaped from the desk and hurried to the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, Muffy," came the voice of a girl whom Muffy thought would never call her in a million years.

"Odette?"

"Yeah, it's me. Got a minute?"

Muffy took a seat on a nearby wooden chair. "Sure, go ahead."

Odette lay on her bed at the Cooper home, lazily staring up at the poster of Mikhail Baryshnikov that adorned her ceiling. "I wanted to talk about this Blinded by Science thing of yours," she said into the phone. "It's turning all the kids into science freaks. I'm really impressed."

"Thanks," said Muffy bashfully, "but you should be talking to Mrs. Stiles. She does all the work."

"I'd like to get together with the two of you," said Odette. "I think I can contribute something to your program. I know a thing or two about science myself."

"Well, of course." Muffy chuckled. "I mean, seventh-graders know everything, right?"

Odette sighed. "I wish."

"Sure, we'd love to have you help," said Muffy, smiling. "Is that everything?"

"No, there's more. I have two words for you. I'm sorry."

Muffy's smile faded. "Sorry? For what?"

Odette took a deep breath. "I think I know the reason why I was kidnapped. It's because I was so distrustful. I didn't trust you because you were a Crosswire. I didn't trust Van because I was afraid your dishonesty might have rubbed off on him. If I had trusted you and Van instead of spying on you, the kidnapping never would have happened."

"But you turned out to be right," Muffy noted.

"That doesn't matter," Odette went on. "I was unfair to you and Van, and I think the kidnapping was God's punishment for that."

There was silence on the line as Muffy pondered the significance of Odette's words.

She finally spoke. "That's silly. If God punished us every time we're unfair to somebody, the Crosswires would all be in the poor house."

A few more seconds of silence were followed by a single word by Odette. "Whatever."

"You're trying too hard to find some kind of cosmic meaning for what happened to you," said Muffy. "Give it up. Life's just that way. Don't let a little thing like this crush your spirit."

"You could make a fortune writing motivational books," said Odette.

"I already have a fortune," Muffy pointed out. "I don't need another one."

Odette took another breath. "I have two more words for you, Muffy. Thank you."

Muffy fell silent and waited, intrigued, for what would come next.

"I don't know what would have become of me if not for you," Odette continued. "I might have never escaped from that place."

Muffy became misty-eyed. "It means so much to me to hear that from you."

"No charge," said Odette.

"So, is there anything else you'd like to get off your chest?"

"Yes, there is. But my mom says I'll be a young woman soon, so I have to get used to it."

----

It was shortly after one o'clock in the morning. Lying in the entrance to his doghouse and gazing up at the bright half-moon, Pal continued his efforts to find meaning in the jumbled words that D.W. had spoken to him earlier in the day. _The humans have never spoken to me before_, he thought. _This could change everything. If only I could make sense of what..._

Pal's train of thought was brought to an abrupt halt by an unusual scent in the air. It reminded him of the strange horse girl who had become an occasional visitor at the Read home, yet it was somehow different.

He started to walk through the crusty snow in the direction of the sidewalk. "It's probably nothing," he told himself, "but I'd better sound the alarm just to be on the side of safety."

By the time Pal reached the sidewalk, the intruders had already appeared.

Two tall figures stood before him. They were dressed in robes and hoods that had the texture of sackcloth, but were pale blue in color. Although their hoods obscured their faces, Pal could make out a glimmer of gold that seemed to emanate from their foreheads.

Terrified at first by the sight of these strangers, Pal gathered his courage and opened his mouth to bark. As he did so, one of the robed figures waved its gloved hand at him.

The mysterious visitors then walked past Pal and toward the front door of the Read house. Pal pursued them doggedly, barking and barking...but making no sound.

(To be continued...)


	22. Intruder Alert!

In his bed, the pajama-clad Arthur was enjoying a happy dream in which the United Nations had passed a resolution condemning homework and piano practice, when he was suddenly awakened by a familiar voice. 

"Wake up, Arthur! You're in danger!"

"Huh?" Sitting up, Arthur fumbled for his glasses and found them on the nightstand. "Professor? Is that you?"

As he walked barefooted from his room, he was confronted by his drowsy-looking parents. "Did you hear it too, Arthur?" asked Mrs. Read as she stifled a yawn.

"It's like someone's trying to warn us," said Mr. Read.

"D.W.!" Mrs. Read exclaimed. She quickly threw open the door to D.W.'s room, finding to her relief that the girl was in bed, asleep. Kate, in the nearby crib, was also snoring peacefully.

Mr. Read breathed a sigh of relief. "I'll go make sure Pal's all right," he offered.

"Dave, wait!" said Mrs. Read. Her husband stopped and turned at the head of the stairway. "That voice...it was the same voice that warned me to get out of the Sneers store. I'm sure of it."

Before Mr. Read had a chance to ponder his wife's statement, the front door burst open. The robed and hooded strangers walked (if it could be called walking when there was no apparent movement of feet or legs) into the house as the determined Pal nipped uselessly at the skirts of their robes, barking wildly but making no noise.

The alarmed Reads gasped when they saw the intruders.

"Jane, get the girls," Mr. Read barked. "Arthur, you're with me."

One of the robed figures raised its arm at them. "Surrender the girl," it commanded, with a voice like a woman's.

"Do not resist us," said the other figure, who sounded like a man.

As Mrs. Read hastily gathered D.W. and Kate into her arms and Mr. Read led Arthur into his room, the three heard once again the soothing voice that had roused them from slumber. "Hold them off as long as you can," it said. "We're on our way."

Rushing to the stairway with her daughters flung over her shoulders, Mrs. Read found her escape cut off by the robed strangers, who appeared to be floating up the stairs. She cried out in horror.

"You must cooperate," said the female intruder. "It is for the girl's best interests."

While Arthur called the police on the bedroom phone, Mr. Read charged out of the room carrying the revolver that he normally kept in a lockbox on a high closet shelf. When he reached the stairway, he stood next to his wife and pointed the weapon at the strangers. "Don't move!" he roared.

The male intruder waved his hand at Mr. Read. "You cannot harm us," he said in a voice that seemed free of malice or any other emotion.

"Not another step!" Mr. Read shot back.

Awakened by the shouting, D.W. rubbed her eyes and looked at the approaching strangers with terror. "It's Santa's elves!" she cried. "They've come to get me!"

Mrs. Read tightened her grip on the two girls and raced into her bedroom, where she found Arthur still talking on the phone with the police. "Fire drill!" she yelled in a panicked voice.

Arthur quickly put down the phone, scurried to the window, and threw it open. To his chagrin, two more robed figures were standing at the bottom of the escape ladder. "They've cut us off!" he shouted to his mother.

In the meantime, the strangers inside of the house were almost on top of Mr. Read when he pulled the trigger on his revolver...and nothing happened.

Incensed, he pulled the trigger again, with the same ineffectual result. "I loaded it!" he cried out in anger.

Before he could make a third attempt, one of the intruders picked him up by the collar of his nightshirt and tossed him aside. Dazed, he sat up and watched as the mysterious visitors made their way toward the bedroom where his wife and children were trapped.

Leaving the revolver on the floor, Mr. Read threw himself at the back of one of the intruders, knocking it down. The other intruder took him by the shoulder and hurled him backwards effortlessly.

As he pulled himself to his feet, he saw the two figures suddenly leap over the guardrail to the floor below. Landing unharmed, they strode hurriedly through the still-open front door and vanished into the night.

His path now unimpeded, Mr. Read bolted into his room, fearing that the ones he loved might have been harmed. What he saw shocked him to the core.

Arthur and his mother showed no signs of injury, other than the disconsolate looks on their faces. Kate was safely nestled in Mrs. Read's arms.

But D.W. was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's D.W.?" yelled Mr. Read, livid with fury.

"They took her away," said Mrs. Read weakly. "They climbed up the escape ladder."

"More like floated up," said Arthur.

"Stay here," Mr. Read ordered.

A moment later he raced out of the house and to the sidewalk, still clad in his nightshirt. A block and a half away he could see several robed figures, moving along the street at a superhuman pace. D.W., her golden horn visible, was lying over the shoulder of one of the figures, waving her arms and screaming but making no sound.

The deep cold of the sidewalk was already starting to numb the skin of his feet, but Mr. Read made pursuit nonetheless.

One block...two blocks...three blocks...

Although he ran with all his might, the robed kidnappers faded further and further from his view. "Nobody can run that fast," he said bitterly to himself. "It's like chasing a car."

Four blocks...five blocks...

...and then the robed figures suddenly stopped.

Exhausted and angry, Mr. Read was surprised to find that he was gaining ground on the fugitives. But nothing had prepared him for what he saw when he finally caught up with them...

As far as he could make out in the dim light of the street lamps, the four robed intruders were locked in battle with four dogs of varying breeds and sizes. The dogs were not fighting with teeth and claws; rather, each one seemed to have a special talent or attribute useful for combat. One of the dogs, a fierce-looking male pit bull, lashed out repeatedly at his robed foe with foot-long razor blades that protruded from his paws. Another, a female greyhound, had levitated her enemy using beams of mental energy from her eyes. Not far away, a female German shepherd was employing blasts of wind and lightning bolts as defensive weapons. Most astonishing of all was a blue-furred male Doberman who confused his foe by constantly disappearing and reappearing at various locations, while occasionally landing a well-aimed punch. His enemy's hood had been knocked backwards, exposing the face and horn of an adult male unicorn.

"So they're unicorns," Mr. Read mused. He sought in vain for D.W. in the melee...when the girl suddenly flew through the air toward him, catching him by surprise and knocking him off balance.

Mr. Read sat up and wrapped his arms around his daughter, too pleased over her safety to care that his nightshirt was now soaked in bitter cold water.

"Get out of here," spoke a voice in his head. "Don't go home. They'll look for you there."

Glancing around, Mr. Read saw a wheelchair-bound Shih Tzu who was gazing at him in an almost intelligent manner. He recognized him as the dog who had briefly stayed with his family in the days leading up to Christmas.

"What are you waiting for, you stupid human?" came the voice again.

Without a moment's pause, Mr. Read jumped to his bare feet and hurried down the sidewalk, clutching D.W. tightly. As he ran, two thoughts became predominant in his mind. One was the question of where to go if he couldn't safely return to his house, and the other was regret that he had no opportunity to thank the canine warriors who had rescued his daughter.

"Don't thank me," said the strange voice. "It was Pal who telepathically alerted us when the Sentinels arrived. You're lucky to belong to such a fine dog. As for where to stay, I have an old enemy at the Frensky apartment who'll be more than happy to take you in."

----

The news that someone had tried to kidnap D.W. horrified the neighborhood. The next day, Mr. and Mrs. Read were visited by countless reporters and newscasters.

"And what happened when you caught up with the kidnappers?" asked Wolf Blitzen, who was holding a microphone to Mr. Read's face.

"I fought them off singlehandedly, of course," Mr. Read boasted. "I'm a former Green Beret, you know."

"Do you expect the viewing public to believe that?" asked Wolf.

"They certainly won't believe it if I tell them the truth."

"Did you get a look at any of their faces?" the reporter persisted.

"Yes, but not a good look," Mr. Read answered. "It was too dark to make out any details."

"Where is your daughter now?" Wolf inquired.

"In an undisclosed location, where she'll be safe."

All over the city, people tuned in with interest to the astonishing story of the little aardvark girl who had changed into a pony, then become the victim of a kidnap attempt.

"I know what it's all about," said George, who was watching the news broadcast with his parents. "D.W. is really an alien princess who ran away from her planet. Now the aliens have come to take her back so she can claim her kingdom."

Meanwhile, the hippo family of Ralph and Joy Baker, with their two boys Ralph Jr. and Leo, discussed the report.

"I've never heard of anything like it," said Mrs. Baker. "What could make someone change like that?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea," Mr. Baker replied. At the same time he thought, _So it's possible for a normal person to become a unicorn. I must find that girl._

Shortly after the newscast, Muffy, Alan, and Beat gathered at Arthur's house to ask questions and satiate their curiosity in regards to his family's harrowing experience.

"I won't ask you where D.W. is," said Alan, "but I'd like to know why you're hiding her. Do you think they'll come back?"

"We think they're after D.W. for a reason," Arthur replied. "They didn't hurt anyone or take anything else."

"In England people aren't allowed to own handguns," Beat remarked, "so I have no experience with this sort of thing, but it seems funny to me that your father bought a gun to protect his family, but didn't load it."

Arthur shrugged. "I guess he just forgot."

"If I can help in any way, let me know," said Muffy. "The vast resources of the Crosswire used car empire are at your disposal."

Before Arthur could thank Muffy for her generosity, the phone rang. He answered it, and heard Francine's voice on the other end.

"Greta's at my apartment," she told him, "and she wants to talk to you."

----

"Why didn't you come to my house, like you always do?" Arthur asked Greta. He was sitting in the Frensky living room, with Francine and Greta at his sides. Greta had made her horn invisible, in case Francine's parents should suddenly arrive.

"After the newscast, everybody knows about D.W.'s change," Greta explained. "Mr. Baker and everyone else who believes in unicorns will want to find her now. It's not safe for either of us to go back to your house, Arthur."

"But D.W. can't hide forever," said Francine.

"She has no choice." Greta's tone became more somber than Arthur or Francine had ever heard it. "If she doesn't want to live with the unicorns, and doesn't want to be chased by unicorn hunters for the next two thousand years, then she'll have to remain in hiding."

"But you live with the unicorns," Arthur observed, "and you have human friends as well. Why can't D.W.?"

"That's different," Greta answered. "I don't have a human family. If D.W. joins the unicorns, then she'll be forbidden to see her family or friends again, although she may, over time, obtain permission to visit other humans."

"What do you mean, over time?" asked Francine.

"It's a special privilege for a unicorn to consort with humans," Greta went on. "I'm only allowed to do so because my parents are members of the Unicorn Council."

"The Unicorn Council?" asked Arthur curiously. "What's that?"

"The government body that rules over all unicorns," Greta replied.

"Did they send the Sentinels to kidnap D.W.?" asked Francine.

"Yes," said Greta. "You see, I've been in constant contact with my parents ever since I traveled into the human world to meet Fern. When I told them about Mr. Baker, that was troubling enough, but when they heard that Fern was suspicious as well, they convened the council and decreed that D.W. would have to be taken away immediately."

"But they can't!" said Arthur indignantly. "I won't let them!"

"The only thing you can do to stop them is to keep hiding D.W.," said Greta. "The Sentinels won't stop until they've found her. Even the X-Pets can't hold them off forever."

Francine's voice took on a pleading tone. "You said your parents are in the Council. Can't you talk to them and try to get them to change their minds?"

"The Council's decision is final," Greta informed her. "Even if I disagreed with it, I couldn't change it."

Arthur and Francine gaped at her with astonishment.

"You...you mean you support their decision?" said Francine unbelievingly.

Greta spoke unapologetically. "D.W. should be raised by unicorn parents. It's the only way her needs can be met. It's the only way to keep her safe."

Arthur pounded his knee with his fist. "I can't accept this! There's got to be a way to make D.W. normal again!"

"I already told you, there isn't," Greta insisted. "It's beyond the power of unicorn magic, and we don't know any other kind of magic."

"Wait a minute." Francine glared suspiciously at Greta. "How do we know you're telling the truth? You lied to Fern so she wouldn't find out that you're a unicorn. Maybe you're lying to us. Maybe there's a way to change D.W. back, but you're not telling us."

Greta suddenly looked wounded and angry. "I'm not lying to you!" she exclaimed. "I care about D.W. as well. If I could give my life to change her back, I would."

Francine smiled triumphantly. "Oh, is that all you have to do? Then what are we waiting for?"

Furious, Greta rose to her feet, swiveled, and glowered at Arthur and Francine. To their surprise, rather than launch into an angry tirade, the unicorn girl simply remained silent for a few seconds, then turned and marched out of the apartment.

Arthur turned to Francine. "I think you might have hurt her feelings."

"She's two hundred years old," said Francine callously. "She'll get over it."

Arthur sighed hopelessly. "Well, there goes Greta. How will we ever change D.W. back now?"

Francine shrugged. She and Arthur sat in thoughtful silence for what seemed like hours, and then she suddenly grinned.

"Arthur, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

(To be continued...)


	23. Ralph's Horn Removal

In the palacial living room of the Crosswire mansion, Muffy sat in a plush chair, wearing a casual shirt and reading a book of poems by Jack Prelutzky. Fern was escorted into the room by Mrs. Crosswire, and Muffy greeted her. "Oh, hi, Fern. Glad you could make it."  
  
"I don't have much time," said Fern as she took a seat by the fireplace. "I've been investigating this whole affair with D.W.'s change and the kidnapping attempt. I think the Reads are keeping her in a hotel somewhere. And I'm pretty sure Greta's mixed up in it somehow."  
  
"You'll have plenty of time to play detective later," said Muffy, waving her hand. "You know all about Blinded by Science, right?"  
  
Fern smiled. "Yes, I do. Sue Ellen won't talk about anything else."  
  
"Well, Mrs. Stiles and I were talking about what we might do as a follow-up," Muffy continued, "and we had an idea for a poetry curriculum."  
  
Fern's face brightened.  
  
"Poetry is a dying art," said Muffy. "Fewer and fewer people read it. We think the solution is to get people interested in it at a young age, just like we hooked kids on science with the Blinded by Science program."  
  
"Muffy, that's a fantastic idea!" Fern enthused. "And I've got the perfect name for it. We'll call it Poetry in Motion."  
  
"I knew I could count on you." Muffy closed her book and showed Fern the cover. "We'll start with Prelutzky, because he's so kid-friendly. Then we'll move on to the harder stuff."  
  
"Like Dickinson," Fern suggested. "And Frost, Wordsworth, Tennyson, Coleridge, Keats, Shelley, and Byron. And let's not forget the great Russian poets, like Gogol, Pushkin, and Yevtushenko."  
  
"Uh...right," said the bewildered Muffy. "Hold on, let me get some paper and write those names down."  
  
----  
  
Mrs. Read inserted her passcard into the reader, and opened the door to a room in Elwood's Tripletree Inn. As Arthur, Francine, and D.W. followed her inside, she glanced around in wonder at the varnished wooden-slat walls, the satin bed coverings, and the ornate curtains. "This is the poshest room yet," she remarked. "Your plan had better work, Francine, or the hotel bills will ruin us."  
  
"What plan?" asked D.W.  
  
"Uh...Francine has a plan for bringing the kidnappers out into the open," Arthur misinformed her.  
  
Upon seeing the queen-size mattress, D.W. immediately climbed onto it and began to bounce and giggle, exactly like she had done in the other hotel rooms where she had stayed.  
  
"Don't worry about the bills, Mom," said Arthur. "I'm sure the Crosswires will help us out."  
  
As D.W. pulled the wrapper from the mint that had been left on the pillow, Mrs. Read turned toward the door. "Remember, if you need anything, call me," she told the kids. "Francine, how are you getting home?"  
  
"Don't worry about it, Mrs. Read," Francine replied.  
  
Arthur waited until his mother had closed the door after her, then started to consult with Francine. "Did you take care of Fern?" he asked.  
  
"I called Muffy and arranged a distraction," said Francine. "I don't think Fern will be able to resist."  
  
"Perfect." Arthur picked up the hotel telephone and deftly pulled out the cord. "Now all we have to do is wait."  
  
"Wait for what?" asked D.W., her lips smeared with chocolate.  
  
"It's a surprise," said Francine. "A really big surprise." She then jumped onto the mattress and began to tickle D.W.  
  
For the next half hour Arthur, Francine, and D.W. played and watched TV, including some cable channels that their parents might not have approved of. Then there came a knock at the door. "There she is," said Francine giddily.  
  
She flew to the door and opened it. "Hi, Greta. Come on in."  
  
The unicorn girl walked slowly into the hotel room, a grim look on her face. "Whatever you called me here for, it had better be important."  
  
"Oh, it is." Francine closed the door behind Greta. "Very important."  
  
Arthur clicked the remote to switch off the TV, which had been playing Bionic Bunny reruns. "Have a seat on the bed, Greta," he said warmly. "There's plenty of room."  
  
As Greta seated herself on the edge of the bed, she saw D.W. approaching from the kitchen, and noted with surprise that her horn was visible. "Turn your horn off, D.W.," she warned. "You never know who could walk in here."  
  
"You can say that again," said Francine knowingly.  
  
As D.W. made her horn disappear, another knock was heard. "Room service," came a gruff voice from outside.  
  
Francine started towards the door. "That voice..." said Greta, suddenly afraid. "No, Francine! It's not the maid!"  
  
Her warning came too late. Francine swung the door open, revealing the presence of Mr. Baker, the hippo teacher, who clutched a large black bag in one hand. "Ralph's Horn Removal," he said, smirking.  
  
Greta's eyes went wide with terror, which was soon replaced by fury. "Come on!" she cried, grabbing D.W. by the hand and yanking her from the bed.  
  
Clenching her teeth, Greta made her horn reappear and charged full throttle at Mr. Baker, dragging D.W. behind her. The hippo man raised a pudgy fist and swatted Greta in the nose as she approached, knocking her and D.W. to the floor. Before the two girls could rise to their feet, Mr. Baker knelt and thrust his hands onto their chests, pinning them. Greta and D.W. squirmed and cried out in fear, but to no avail.  
  
Mr. Baker gestured with his head toward his black bag, which he had placed on the floor. "Arthur, Francine, if you look in my bag you'll find a pair of forceps."  
  
The helpless Greta watched in unbelieving shock as her two human friends calmly walked over to Mr. Baker's bag, opened it, and rummaged through it. "You betrayed me!" she shrieked angrily.  
  
Francine located the forceps and pulled them out of the bag. "Hmm...these could do some serious damage," she remarked, grinning.  
  
Arthur turned and looked down at Greta's terrified face. "How do we make D.W. human again?" he demanded.  
  
"You can't!" cried Greta, who was still wriggling in a futile attempt to break free from Mr. Baker's strong grip.  
  
"You two, take D.W.," the hippo man ordered. Arthur and Francine grabbed D.W.'s arms and lifted her into a standing position, while Mr. Baker grabbed the tool from Francine with his free hand.  
  
"If there's a less painful way to remove the horn," he said, fastening the forceps to the base of Greta's horn, "you'd better speak up now."  
  
(To be continued...) 


	24. Unicornix Zero

"All right, Mr. Baker," said Greta despairingly, "you can have my horn. You don't need to yank it off."  
  
Mr. Baker relaxed his grip on the forceps, and a split second later Greta's horn came loose and fell from her forehead. Upon seeing this, the teacher laid down his forceps and greedily snatched up the glowing horn.  
  
"Thank you very much, Miss von Horstein," he said, climbing to his feet and lifting his hand from Greta's chest. The dehorned unicorn girl then pulled herself up and stood before Mr. Baker, glaring at him indignantly but making no attempt to flee.  
  
The man then turned his face to D.W. "It's your turn," he said ominously.  
  
"No! No!" cried D.W., struggling to break away from Arthur and Francine. "You can't have my horn! I want to stay a unicorn!"  
  
"Give him your horn, D.W.," Greta advised. "It'll grow back."  
  
Seeing that it was useless to fight, D.W. closed her eyes and caused her horn to appear. Mr. Baker wrapped his hand around her horn and wiggled it until it came loose; he now held Greta's horn in one hand, and D.W.'s in the other. Arthur and Francine released D.W.'s arms, and the little girl ran to Greta's side. Mr. Baker then handed D.W.'s horn to Arthur.  
  
Greta's eyes were full of hatred. "How much did Mr. Baker pay you off, you traitors?" she bellowed at Arthur and Francine.  
  
"He's not giving us any money," said Arthur, holding the unicorn horn in front of him. "We agreed with Mr. Baker to split the two horns. What he does with his horn is his business, but I intend to use this one to have a little talk with the Unicorn Council."  
  
"No, Arthur!" cried Greta with panic in her voice. "Only a unicorn can petition the Council! You don't know what they'll do to you!"  
  
"Then I'll find out," said Arthur fearlessly. "I wish to be transported..."  
  
"UNUS CORNU CONCILIO!" shouted Greta at the top of her lungs.  
  
Arthur stopped in mid-wish, intrigued by the strange words that Greta had spoken. Before he had a chance to ask their meaning, a smoky white mist rose from the floor of the hotel room and surrounded him, Francine, D.W., Greta, and Mr. Baker. The hotel environs completely disappeared; it was as if they were enveloped by a dense, blinding cloud.  
  
For several seconds they remained in darkness, unable to hear each other's voices; then the mist dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. They were no longer in the Tripletree Inn, but in the midst of a brilliant marble colonnade. Before them sat an array of about a hundred gilded stadium seats, all of which were empty; to the left of the seats stood a large marble podium.  
  
"Where are we, Greta?" asked Francine as soon as she had recovered from her initial confusion.  
  
"Unicornix Zero," Greta replied, her voice now confident. "The assembly hall of the Unicorn Council. Arthur, Mr. Baker, I suggest you put away the horns you stole."  
  
As Arthur and the hippo man inserted their ill-gotten unicorn horns into their pockets, the gilded seats began to fill with adult unicorns who seemed to appear out of thin air. They were clad in blue sackcloth robes not unlike those that the Sentinels had worn.  
  
"The words you heard me speak are the code for an emergency convocation of the Council," Greta went on. "Only by petitioning the Council for an exception to the rules of unicorn magic can we change D.W. back to normal."  
  
"Then why didn't you do this before?" asked Arthur.  
  
"The Council grants exceptions only in extreme circumstances," Greta explained as her voice became anxious once again. "Also, to discourage convocations over frivolous matters, they inflict a punishment upon any unicorn whose petition is denied."  
  
"What kind of punishment?" inquired D.W.  
  
Greta hesitated nervously, as if describing the punishment would cause it to fall upon her.  
  
"You remember I said I would give my life to change D.W. back," she said to Arthur and Francine. "I was serious. But if my petition for an emergency exception is denied, then my fate will be worse than death."  
  
Arthur, Francine, D.W., and Mr. Baker all stared at Greta expectantly.  
  
"I will lose my free will," Greta concluded.  
  
Now more worried than ever, the others watched as the last few empty seats were filled with robed unicorns. Finally, a unicorn with a red robe and powdered wig appeared, standing behind the podium with a golden gavel in his hand.  
  
Greta pointed toward the farthest row of seats. "See the two unicorns sitting on the left end of the back row?" she said to her friends. "Those are my parents."  
  
"They don't look very happy to see you," Francine remarked. Indeed, the expressions of all the unicorns in the Council, as well as the judge, were seemingly devoid of feeling.  
  
"The Council members are instructed to never let their emotions get in the way of their judgments," Greta explained.  
  
The judge struck the top of the podium with his gavel. "This emergency convocation of the Unicorn Council will now come to order," he announced in a pompous, booming voice. "Greta von Horstein, you have one minute to state your case before the Council."  
  
Greta stepped in front of the podium and bowed her head meekly. "Your Honor, there has been an unfortunate mistake. My young friend D.W. Read made a wish on a unicorn horn, unaware of its magical properties, and as a result was changed unwillingly into a unicorn."  
  
"That's not true!" cried D.W., who was now running toward the podium. "I like being a unicorn! I want to stay like this!"  
  
"Quiet, D.W.!" said Greta, glaring at the little girl. She then turned to look at the judge again. "It is my desire that an exception will be made to unicorn law, and that D.W. will be transformed into her former self."  
  
Silence filled the assembly hall, and then the unicorn councilors began to mutter among themselves. "The Council will now decide," proclaimed the judge, pounding the podium with his gavel. D.W., frightened by the loud nose, hurried away and rejoined Arthur and Francine.  
  
The discussion among the robed unicorns became animated, with most complaining about the fact that they had been pulled away from their other responsibilities to wait upon a little girl's wishes.  
  
"I don't think she understands the seriousness of what she's done," said one councilor. "And her friend doesn't even want to be changed back. I doubt that the verdict will be in her favor."  
  
"I thought we had taught her better than this," said Greta's mother, shaking her head.  
  
"Although she is our daughter," Greta's father remarked, "we must respect the law."  
  
As Greta's friends watched curiously, each of the unicorn councilors pressed one of two buttons that were part of a small panel on the back of each seat. "It's like an election," Francine noted.  
  
When all the councilors had voted, the judge hit the podium with his gavel again. "The Council has spoken. Three votes in favor, ninety-seven opposed. Greta von Horstein, your petition is denied."  
  
Arthur, D.W., and Francine let out horrified gasps. Mr. Baker's expression was one of indifference, as if he were observing the outcome of a gubernatorial election pertaining to another state.  
  
Greta lowered her eyes humbly. "I submit to the decision of the Council," she said in a tone of utter hopelessness.  
  
Then she turned to her friends. "You may not want to watch this," she warned them. But they did.  
  
As they looked on, Greta underwent a frightening change. Although her exterior appearance was unmodified, her face and eyes had become drained of all emotion. She stood rigidly, like a soldier awaiting a command from a superior officer.  
  
"You are hereby stripped of your free will and sentenced to labor in the gold mines for the remainder of your natural life," said the judge coldly.  
  
Without a word, Greta turned and walked toward a marble-framed door that apparently served as the exit from the assembly hall. "Greta, come back!" D.W. cried after her, but the unicorn girl seemed oblivious to everything around her. The door swung open automatically, and Greta disappeared through it.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	25. Disorder in the Court

"Omigosh!" exclaimed Francine. "I can't believe her parents would do that to their own daughter!"  
  
"There were three votes in her favor," Arthur noted. "So maybe her parents..."  
  
As he spoke, the same mists that had transported the group to Unicornix Zero began to rise from the marble floor of the assembly hall and surround them.  
  
"No! We can't leave Greta!" cried Francine.  
  
"Unus chili con carne-o!" yelled D.W., her eyes tearing up. "Unus corny con cheerios!"  
  
Arthur grabbed his sister and put his hand over her mouth. "Stop it! They'll turn you into a zombie, too! OW!"  
  
Having bitten Arthur's finger, D.W. found that her mouth was free again. "UNUS CORNU CONCILIO!" she cried exultantly.  
  
The mists that enveloped them suddenly vanished.  
  
Arthur, D.W., Francine, and Mr. Baker were once again standing in the assembly hall of the Unicorn Council. The councilors were seated in front of them, and the judge stood behind the podium. Several councilors displayed expressions of annoyance, or muttered, "Not again."  
  
Arthur and Francine stared at D.W. in wordless shock, recognizing the terrible significance of what she had just done. Mr. Baker grumbled impatiently.  
  
The judge pounded the podium with his gavel. "This emergency convocation of the Unicorn Council will now come to order," he bellowed. "Dora Winifred Read, you have one minute to state your case before the Council."  
  
Rather than approach the podium, D.W. remained standing where she was. "Let Greta go!" she shouted with determination.  
  
A hush fell over the assembly hall. A few of the robed councilors whispered to each other.  
  
"Is that all?" asked the judge.  
  
"That's all I have to say, Your Honor."  
  
"The Council will now decide," said the judge, banging the podium with his gavel.  
  
Arthur and Francine expected the worst as the councilors proceeded to debate among themselves. This time the conversation was even more lively than when Greta stood before them.  
  
"She hasn't been a unicorn long enough," said one councilor. "She'd be of no use in the mines."  
  
"We can't commute a sentence just because a little girl asks us to," said another. "It would be disrespectful of the law."  
  
"She's so cute!" gushed another.  
  
Several minutes went by, and then the judge hit the podium with his gavel again. "I have received only five votes," he informed them.  
  
Greta's father spoke up hesitantly. "If it please the court, Your Honor, I would like to abstain."  
  
"I as well, Your Honor," said Greta's mother.  
  
"But you must vote," the judge responded. "It is the law."  
  
"Begging your pardon, Your Honor," said Greta's father, "but the rule that every councilor must vote is, in reality, nothing more than a guideline."  
  
The judge looked at him with dismay. "Then how can we arrive at a decision?" he asked.  
  
Another unicorn councilor spoke. "I think we should just send the girl back where she came from."  
  
"Not without Greta!" D.W. roared.  
  
"If we send her away without punishment, she'll just come back," Greta's mother commented. "Therefore, I propose that we change her back into her non-unicorn self, and then send her away." A buzz of approval swept through the Council.  
  
"No!" cried D.W. in despair. "I want to stay a unicorn! I want to live two thousand years!"  
  
"The Council will now decide whether to make Dora Winifred Read a non-unicorn," announced the judge.  
  
All of the councilors pressed their voting buttons at once.  
  
"One hundred votes in favor, zero votes opposed," said the judge. "So let it be written, so let it be done."  
  
D.W. opened her mouth to protest, when a wave of pain spread through her face. She yelped and grimaced. As Arthur, Francine, and Mr. Baker watched curiously, the little girl's nose deflated like a balloon until it reverted to its pre-unicorn size. The white horse hair that had sprouted from her skin faded and disappeared.  
  
She rubbed her hands over her nose, touched her forehead and ears, and started to cry. Arthur embraced her, and felt her warm tears moistening his sweater.  
  
"Now that there are no unicorns remaining among you," proclaimed the judge, "you will be returned to your place of origin."  
  
"Just a minute!" cried Francine, glaring at him. "You never voted on freeing Greta."  
  
Several gasps were heard from the seated councilors.  
  
"Greta von Horstein's punishment was just," said the judge with disdain.  
  
"The girl has a point, Your Honor," said Greta's mother.  
  
"But Dora Winifred is no longer a unicorn," the judge noted. "Only a unicorn may petition the Council."  
  
"Then we'll change her back!" one of the councilors blurted out.  
  
"That's too much trouble," another councilor retorted.  
  
"Look at the poor girl," remarked another. "She's suffering enough as it is."  
  
"We must ignore our feelings and respect the law," said yet another.  
  
Arthur and Francine watched with amusement as the debate between the unicorn councilors turned into an all-out shouting match. D.W., wondering what the fuss was about, ceased from wiping her nose on Arthur's sweater.  
  
Finally the judge pounded his gavel loudly three times, restoring order to the Council. "We will let the girl decide," he proclaimed, then turned to face D.W. "Dora Winifred Read, we offer you a choice. Either we change you back into a unicorn, or we set Greta free and allow her to return with you."  
  
----  
  
Moments later, Arthur, D.W., Francine, Greta, and Mr. Baker reappeared in the hotel room at the Tripletree Inn, and the mists surrounding them faded away. D.W. had been restored to her former aardvark self, and Greta's face once again showed emotion--specifically, gratitude.  
  
She grabbed D.W. and pulled the girl to her waist. "Thank you, D.W. Thank you so much for setting me free."  
  
"You owe me big time," D.W. replied.  
  
When she saw Mr. Baker walking towards the still-open door of the hotel room, Greta looked at him sternly. "I warn you, Mr. Baker, if you wish carelessly, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."  
  
The hippo man turned and smiled at her condescendingly. "What makes you think I want anything for myself? I'm happy with my life as it is. I'm going to turn the horn over to the scientific community."  
  
"No! You mustn't!" Greta appeared more terrified than ever.  
  
Without a word, Mr. Baker sped out the door, followed by Greta. She watched him run down the hotel hallway toward the elevator, at a speed she could not hope to match. Arthur, Francine, and D.W. gathered around her, looking confused and concerned.  
  
"You got what you wanted," Greta said to them. "Now how about helping me save the world?"  
  
(To be continued...) 


	26. Francine Grows Up

With D.W. hanging over his shoulder, Arthur raced down the stairway after Francine and Greta. "Why does the world need saving?" he asked loudly.  
  
"If human scientists try to split the magic particles in my horn, they could cause widespread devastation!" answered Greta as she leaped down three steps at a time.  
  
The four children finally reached the hotel lobby and saw Mr. Baker rushing through the revolving door exit, Greta's horn in his hand. "There he is!" cried Greta. "We have to stop him!"  
  
They hurried toward the exit with all the speed they could muster. "Why didn't you tell us about this until now?" asked Francine.  
  
"I never imagined anyone would use the horn for other than selfish purposes," Greta replied.  
  
When they arrived on the sidewalk outside of the hotel, Greta pointed to the right. The others looked and saw Mr. Baker pulling away from a parking meter in his beaten-up gray Oldsmobile.  
  
Greta glanced around desperately, then smiled with relief. "A taxi!"  
  
Indeed, a taxicab sat next to the curb less than half a block away. Greta immediately rushed toward it, waving, while Arthur, with D.W. still draped on his shoulder, and Francine followed.  
  
Then Francine was hit by an idea. "Arthur, give me the horn!" she requested. Arthur quickly pulled D.W.'s unicorn horn from his pocket and handed it to Francine, who then changed course and disappeared into an alleyway.  
  
Greta hailed the taxi driver, a handsome young monkey man who sat behind the wheel eating a cream donut. "Follow that gray car!" she ordered, pointing toward the intersection where Mr. Baker's Oldsmobile was stopped at a signal.  
  
The driver looked incredulously at the three small children who had suddenly arrived at the window of his vehicle. "I'm not running a school bus, little girl," he said petulantly.  
  
"Don't take that tone with me, young man!" Greta retorted.  
  
"These children are with me," came a woman's voice from behind Arthur and Greta.  
  
They turned and were surprised to see an attractive young monkey woman, probably eighteen years old, with shoulder-length brown hair. She wore blue jeans and a red coat, and held D.W.'s unicorn horn in her hand. Their jaws dropped when they realized her true identity.  
  
"Get in," said the taxi driver, waving his hand. The monkey woman climbed into the passenger seat, while Arthur, D.W., and Greta loaded themselves into the back seat and started to fumble with their seat belts.  
  
"Follow that gray Oldsmobile," said the monkey woman. "We must find out where it's going."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," replied the driver with gusto. The enthusiastic tone of his voice indicated that he seldom had the opportunity to transport such a comely female passenger.  
  
"One brilliant idea after another," Arthur remarked as the cab pulled into the busy street. "I don't know how Francine does it."  
  
As the taxi followed Mr. Baker's car to the edge of town, the driver engaged in a friendly conversation with the monkey woman.  
  
"Any day now, the public will discover my novels, and then I won't have to drive this crate around anymore," said the young man.  
  
"You like to write?" said the monkey woman wistfully. "That's so romantic."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"Oh, I like to write too. Last year I published my own newspaper. But my favorite thing is sports. I want to be a professional athlete when I grow up." She looked at the driver and sighed ecstatically. "Or maybe I'll just get married and have kids."  
  
"He's too old for you, Francine," called Arthur from the back seat.  
  
"Francine," mused the driver. "What a lovely name. I had a dog named Francine once. My name's Mitch. Mitch Branca."  
  
"Francine loves Mitch," said D.W. mockingly.  
  
The young woman turned her head and glowered at her. "No more wisecracks out of you, or you're grounded."  
  
The taxi continued to pursue the gray Oldsmobile for several miles along the highway, at which point it pulled off into a residential area. A few minutes later Mr. Baker stopped his car in front of a white house with red trim.  
  
"Don't turn," Greta told the driver. "We don't want him to suspect anything. Just stop at the next intersection."  
  
The driver complied, and Arthur, D.W., Greta, and the grownup Francine scrambled out of the cab. "We won't be long," said Greta.  
  
Inside of the house that Mr. Baker had entered, the teacher was displaying Greta's horn to a friend of his who happened to be a physicist at a nearby laboratory.  
  
"No, I can't say I've ever seen anything like it," said the physicist, his expression one of fascination. "I'll put it under the scope and check it out tomorrow."  
  
As he curiously rotated the horn in his hands, the doorbell rang. He went to answer it, and found Greta, D.W., and the adult Francine standing on the doorstep and smiling.  
  
Annoyed, Mr. Baker slapped his forehead. "Oh, man..."  
  
Greta held up D.W.'s horn so that the physicist could see it. "We're selling phosphorescent hood ornaments to raise money for Girl Scouts," she told him, "but I see you've already bought one."  
  
The suddenly angry scientist turned to Mr. Baker, wrapped his hands firmly around the ends of Greta's horn, and snapped it in half. "You never give up trying to make a fool of me, do you, Ralph?" he said as he dropped the two halves to the floor.  
  
The hippo man began to stammer, horrified at the waste of a perfectly good magic horn. Grownup Francine and the two girls fled from the doorstep and down the sidewalk toward the waiting taxi. At one point Greta looked back and saw Mr. Baker in front of the scientist's house, shaking his fist and bellowing, "Stupid meddling kids!"  
  
----  
  
The taxi came to a stop in front of Arthur's house. Greta handed the driver a bill, and she, Arthur, and D.W. unlatched their seat belts and began to exit the taxi. As grownup Francine opened the passenger side door, the taxi driver placed a hand on her shoulder. "I hope I'll see you again," he said longingly.  
  
She gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "You will, Mitch. In about nine years."  
  
As the taxi departed, grownup Francine gazed after it, her eyes glowing with affection. "Oh...he's so cute..."  
  
Greta tapped her on the hip and held out D.W.'s unicorn horn. "Snap out of it, Juliet. You can't go into Arthur's house looking like that."  
  
Francine shook her head and broke free from her trance. "Oh, right." She laid her hand over the horn. "I wish I was my old self again."  
  
In an instant, the grownup Francine vanished and was replaced by the nine-year-old Francine that the others knew and loved. Her first act was to yank the horn from Greta's hand, grip it at both ends, and break it over her knee. She then tossed the two halves into a nearby bush.  
  
"I've decided I don't want to be a boy after all," she announced, grinning. Arthur put his hand over his mouth and snickered.  
  
Greta sank to her knees and embraced D.W. lovingly. "Why are you hugging me?" the little aardvark girl asked.  
  
"Because I'll never see you again," Greta answered sadly. "I'm going away."  
  
D.W. threw her arms around Greta's neck and began to cry. "I'll miss you, Greta. I always wanted to have a real unicorn for a friend. Will you send postcards, like Buster does?"  
  
"No postcards, I'm afraid," Greta replied. "But you can always go to Fern's and chat with me online."  
  
"So this is goodbye?" asked Arthur. "You're leaving forever?"  
  
Greta rose to her feet and looked at Arthur and Francine with a hint of anger in her face. "You betrayed me to Mr. Baker. Even if I could forgive you for that, it's unlikely that the Council will ever let me visit the human world again after everything that happened. At least, not while any of you are still alive. So, yes, this is goodbye."  
  
"Goodbye, Greta." D.W. waved while tears rolled down her cheeks.  
  
Without another word, Greta turned and began to walk along the street away from her friends.  
  
"Think we'll ever see her again?" Francine asked Arthur.  
  
"I hope not," Arthur answered. "I've seen enough unicorns to last me a lifetime. A two-thousand-year lifetime."  
  
----  
  
The next day, Francine and Beat were playing checkers at the Frensky apartment, and as usual, Francine was losing badly.  
  
"So she turned back into an aardvark girl just like that...zap," Beat commented as she captured three of Francine's black checkers at once. "I've never seen anything like it. And I'm from England."  
  
"The doctors still don't know what caused it," said Francine. "They say things like that sometimes happen to kids when they reach puberty, but they never happen to five-year-olds."  
  
"I wonder what will happen to us when we reach puberty," Beat mused.  
  
"I don't know," said Francine, smiling, "but to be honest, I'm looking forward to it."  
  
The phone rang, and Catherine answered it. "Hey, Frankie, it's for you. Some guy named Mitch."  
  
Francine groaned.  
  
THE END 


End file.
